Spies and Lies
by Vinsmouse
Summary: In the episode Sole Survivor, what if Joe found the perfume spill before Abrams entered the room?
1. Chapter 1

Spies and Lies

By: Vinsmouse

Summary: In the episode Sole Survivor, what if Joe smelled the perfume before Abrams entered the room?

Warnings: Violence, torture, angst

Rating: FRT

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hardy Boys, not making any money, just cheap thrills.

Chapter 1

Joe blinked back tears again. It seemed like all he did was cry, he thought, disgusted with himself. His father and brother were gone, likely betrayed and instead of trying to find out who had betrayed them Joe could only lie here crying over his loss. He should be out there searching for the betrayer, seeing that he was brought to justice.

"_And just how do you propose to do that Joseph Hardy? You can barely walk across the room."_

Joe could almost hear his aunt's voice, both harsh and gentle at the same time. He never had been able to figure out how she did that. He sighed. Imagination or not the voice was right, he was too weak to do anything towards avenging his family. But he wouldn't always be weak and he promised himself that someday he would bring their betrayer to justice.

Since waking from his year long coma Joe's life had taken on a nightmarish quality. He had no memory of the wreck that put him here, only a vague, hazy, memory of an ambulance ride. Leta had told him how his father and Frank had haunted the hospital, never leaving his side until that horrible day in February. How could it have all gone so horribly wrong? The newspaper reports hadn't helped, only leaving him confused. Why had they been on a boat in Victoria Harbor when they were supposed to cross the Bay of Kowloon?

Well he wasn't going to learn anything lying here wallowing in grief, was he? Determined to find justice for his family Joe threw the covers to the side. Stiff and weak he slowly climbed from the bed making his way to the chair by the window. Angry at the amount of time it had taken him to move across the small space he glared down at his legs. Now what, he wondered as he let his eyes roam the room, taking in details he hadn't noticed before.

Curious and needing distraction he began to look through a row of drawers next to the closet. Here he found some of his personal effects, among them his wallet. Pulling it out he opened the leather case. Drawing in a sharp breath he gazed down at the pictures within their plastic sleeves. With shaking hands he pulled one out, a group shot of him, his father and brother. Lovingly he traced a finger over their features as memories of earlier, happier times flew through his mind. Closing his eyes he could picture the scenes.

Seeing their faces, hearing their voices in memory was a bittersweet torture. Swallowing hard he finally put the pictures away and closed the wallet. Looking towards the closet he wondered if his clothes were there? Probably not; with the injuries Leta had described he wouldn't be surprised if they had to cut his clothes off. Still he stood, taking a couple of steps to the closet. Opening it, he saw his clothes hanging there. Seeing the familiar things was comforting in a way. Reaching for the jeans he slid the wallet into place. It was at this moment a scent hit him, bringing with it a memory of the shop here in Hong Kong. He smiled as he remembered joking around with his brother as his father stood nearby, laughing over their antics. Wait a minute? That had happened only a day or two before his accident, how then could the scent still linger a year later? It didn't make any sense unless...it was a lie.

His heart hammering in his chest Joe tried to think clearly. What should he do? Confront Leta and Dr. Lo? No, he was too weak for that. His best move, he realized, would be getting the hell out of Dodge, the sooner the better. With that in mind he reached for his clothes.

"Is he ready?" Abrams asked his co-conspirator.

"I still think it's too soon," Dr. Lo objected. He cared nothing for the well being of the young American but if they pushed too soon they might force his memories deeper.

"Yes doctor I'm aware of that, but it doesn't answer my question," Abrams calmly responded.

Dr. Lo nodded. "Let me speak to him first."

"Of course."

Dr. Lo walked rapidly to the room, pushing open the door. Spotting the young Hardy by the closet, his pajama top unbuttoned, surprised him. "What are you doing Mr. Hardy?" he smiled. "You are too weak to leave us."

Joe froze, cursing himself for moving too slowly. Something in his face must have clued the so-called doctor in.

Laying his clipboard aside Dr. Lo drew a hypodermic from his pocket and moved towards the young man. He couldn't let the boy leave. The questioning would just have to wait.

Shoving the chair towards the doctor Joe side-stepped around the older man, making his way to the door. He would just have to make his escape as he was; he only hoped the whole hospital wasn't in on the scheme, whatever it was. That it was connected to Chang's defection he was certain but beyond that he didn't know. With more time to think he could no doubt figure it out. Unfortunately he wasn't going to get the time.

The doctor jumped to one side, allowing the chair to crash against the end of the bed, drawing attention. Joe pulled open the door. "Please help me," Joe gasped upon seeing the large man standing in the doorway. Judging by his suit Joe was sure he was with a government agency, probably the CIA.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Abrams smiled. Stepping towards the boy he forced him back into the room.

"You're one of them," Joe accused. Dodging to the side he tried for the door. A tight, painful grip on his arm pulled him to a stop.

"A little help doctor," Abrams said as he struggled to hold on to the adrenaline flooded boy.

"Of course," Dr. Lo said, moving towards them, the hypodermic once more ready to jab into Hardy's arm. With deft movements he quickly administered the drug, bringing an end to the fight.

"You fool!" Abrams spat. "How are we supposed to question him now?"

Dr. Lo smiled. "You worry too much," he chided. "The drug will last only a short time, long enough for us to secure the boy."

"We need to get him out of here."

The doctor shook his head. "No need."

Abrams stared at the Chinese doctor. "You don't expect to torture him here? We'd certainly be caught as soon as he starts screaming."

"My friend have you no imagination?"

Abrams smirked. "What do you have in mind?"

"Restraints to begin with, that will keep him in place and unable to fight back. "

"And his screams?"

"A gag will suffice one such as they use on patients undergoing electro-shock treatments," Dr. Lo replied, a cold smile spreading across his face.

"That could work, but how will he answer our questions?"

"We will ask a question if he indicates his refusal to answer persuasion will be applied. The question will then be repeated. This procedure will continue for as long as is necessary to change the young man's mind. If he indicates his cooperation we will remove the gag."

Just then the door opened, admitting Leta Manheim, a gasp alerting the two men to her presence. "What's happened?"

"He somehow realized he had been lied to," Dr. Lo replied.

"What? But how?" Leta asked, her eyes widened in shock.

"It doesn't matter. Get restraints and a gag from the supply closet," the doctor ordered.

Leta gave a short nod and turned on her heel.

"Now help me get him into the bed," the doctor ordered Abrams. Between the two men they soon had the youngest Hardy lying in the bed. A few minutes later he was secured by the restraints, a gag strapped around his head, insuring any noises wouldn't escape this room.

"How long until he wakes up?" Abrams asked.

Dr. Lo looked at his watch and did some quick mental calculations. "He should be awake within an hour. While we wait we can gather the things needed to extract our answers."

TBC...

Please feed the muse with reviews. For any who wonder I am still working on Divine Right and regular updates will continue.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Kowloon Hospital: Hong Kong

"Why couldn't you have just been a good boy and stayed in bed?" Leta quietly asked the young man lying in the bed. He didn't answer of course, the gag saw to that, leaving him with glaring as his only option. "Now we'll have to get what we want the hard way." She honestly regretted the necessity; she had never enjoyed inflicting pain. The original plan had been her's and it would have worked too if only the boy hadn't looked in the closet. Why they had left his clothes hanging there she didn't know? It had been foolish.

As she brushed the hair from his forehead Joe flinched. She ignored the action. "Now Hans is going to ask you a question you can indicate with a nod or shake of your head whether or not you'll answer. If you choose not to answer persuasion will be applied after which the question will be repeated. The amount of persuasion we must employ is entirely up to you. I do hope you'll choose wisely."

Joe focused on his anger. He wouldn't let these people see how scared he was. He knew exactly what she meant by persuasion, he only hoped he could withstand it. The last thing Joe wanted was to give them whatever information they wanted. They hadn't said yet what they were after, though he could guess.

Hans stepped forward, smiling coldly. "What are the plans for Chang's defection?"

Joe wasn't surprised by the question. He had suspected that was the point of the coma charade. Glaring at the man he shook his head making clear his refusal to answer. That was when the beating began. Joe tried but he couldn't hold back the moans of pain as Hans pummelled his body and face. He didn't know how long the beating lasted, it seemed like hours.

"Be careful," Dr. Lo cautioned. "If you break his jaw he won't be able to answer our questions."

Hans glared at the other man. "I know what I'm doing doctor." Turning back to the boy in the bed he once more put the question to him. "You will change your mind soon," he predicted. Calmly, professionally, he picked up the boy's left hand. He said nothing as he caressed the hand.

Joe shuddered as Hans continued to hold his hand. He screamed behind the gag as without warning the caress turned to pain.

Hans smiled at the boy whose finger he had just broken. This was the way to find answers, not Leta's deception. "What are the plans?" A shake of the head and another finger was broken. He asked again gaining the same response. This continued until every finger on the boy's hands were broken and the young blond had passed out.

Leta looked at the boy, disgusted by what they'd had to do. There must be a better way. "What about drugs?" she asked.

Dr. Lo shook his head. "No, if they don't work we would then have to wait hours more for them to wear off."

"Lo is right," Hans agreed. "We don't know how much time we have until the meeting. If the Americans are able to secure Chang we will have no hope of acquiring him."

"Yes well beating him certainly isn't working," Leta sarcastically pointed out.

"Leta is right. Perhaps a bit of electro-shock would gain us answers," Lo suggested.

Hans smiled. "That could work. Get the equipment set up," he ordered. While the doctor and Leta set up the equipment Hans worked on waking the young Hardy.

Joe couldn't help flinching.

"I'm sorry did I frighten you?" Hans taunted the boy.

Joe glared. You try waking up to your torturer and see how you react he thought furiously.

"Are you ready to answer my question? No? I guess we'll have to try the good doctor's idea then."

Joe glanced in the direction Hans indicated, his eyes widening when he saw the machine the doctor was preparing. He'd never experienced it himself but he had seen a device just like this one when he'd researched a paper for school.

"Tighten the restraints," Dr. Lo ordered.

Joe struggled against the restraints as he vainly attempted to avoid the doctor's hands. It was no good and soon the conducting gel had been applied. He watched in horror as the Chinese doctor turned away to gather the paddles that would fire electricity through him. Shaking his head rapidly he tried again to avoid the inevitable. No! Please don't do this!

"Struggling will only make it worse," Leta spoke from above him. The German agent hardened her heart when the young man turned pleading eyes her way. She had a duty to perform; there was no room for sympathy here. "Answer our questions and your suffering will end." To nobody's surprise the boy only shook his head again.

Pain! His entire body was consumed by pain as it convulsed in seizure. Joe didn't remember passing out but he must have for Hans was waking him up, demanding answers. A shake of the head and the pain returned, worse than before. Again the question was asked, another refusal and another round of pain. Oh God! Joe screamed behind the gag as pain lanced through his neck and suddenly he couldn't move. No! Please I can't be paralyzed. Tears filled his eyes; though whether it was from pain or fear he couldn't tell.

"Will you answer?" Hans asked.

"Why doesn't he answer?" Leta asked when the boy only lay there tears dripping down the side of his face.

The doctor looked down at the boy, noticing the stiff way he held himself a suspicion formed. "Can you move your head Mr. Hardy? Blink twice for no," he instructed.

Joe tried to move his head again. To his relief he was able to move slightly but the intensifying of the pain quickly stopped him. He blinked twice.

CityView Hotel: Hong Kong

Fenton lay on the hotel bed, memories of his youngest flashing before his eyes. He had thought when Laura died that he nothing could ever hurt as much, how wrong he'd been. As horrible as that pain had been it paled in comparison to the pain of losing his child. What had he been thinking, involving his children in such a dangerous mission?

"_I told you not to take them with you to Hong Kong Fenton. Why didn't you listen to me?" _

His sister's words when he called to tell her the news had been like a punch to the gut. She had apologized in the next breath but it was too late. The words spoken in grief couldn't be taken back. The worst part was she was right. If he had listened to Gert his baby would still be alive. Oh God, he choked back the tears that threatened to fall. He didn't have the right to cry. It was his fault that Joe had been taken from them.

God please, I need my son; Frank needs his brother. This loss is tearing him apart. He can't be gone! He was only nineteen, how could you take him so soon? The sound of Frank's voice pulled him from his grief-stricken thoughts.

"It's almost 5:00, Kline will be here soon," Frank quietly said.

"Did you get any sleep?" Fenton needlessly asked. One look at his son's face and he knew the boy hadn't slept any more than he had. Frank shook his head just as a knock sounded at the door. Minutes later the two of them were leaving the room with Alan Kline.

TBC...

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kowloon Hospital: Hong Kong

They had finally left Joe alone, though how long it was to last he didn't know. He welcomed the reprieve, if only he could put it to good use. A noise drew his attention to the side door. Joe couldn't hide his surprise when an attractive young woman quietly stepped into the room. He vaguely remembered seeing her in the hall, but what was she doing here?

Kim Wu tentatively made her way to the young man's bed. She had been curious about the young American from the moment she'd seen him. She hadn't recognized either of the doctors treating the man, nor had she ever been barred from an entire floor before. When she had met them in the hall the coldness of the woman's stare had only increased her curiosity. Why should the woman look at her with such anger and contempt?

Her curiosity aroused she had made her way onto the forbidden floor, slipping into a connecting room. Kim had barely contained her shocked gasp when upon cracking open the door she witnessed what could only be described as torture. She thought they must be spies or something. Kim had always found the idea of spies exciting, glamorous even, but this was nothing like what she'd seen in movies. The sound as the man's fingers were broken was awful, bringing tears of sympathy to her eyes.

She thought about getting help but who would believe her? As she considered this question she continued to watch in horrified fascination as the three strangers tortured the fourth. She had been surprised when they left the room, giving her a chance to free the young man. It was an opportunity she wasn't about to waste. Her heart was in her throat as she made her way to the bedside. Gently she removed the gag. "I'm Kim, I'm going to get you out of here," she whispered.

"No," Joe croaked in a raspy, barely there whisper.

"What?"

"Can't move fast enough," he explained in a strained voice. "Get help."

"Who?" Kim still hadn't decided who she should go to for help. The police seemed the obvious choice but would they believe her?

"My father, brother, Cityview hotel," Joe gasped in a pained whisper. He had quickly realized that if they were asking questions about Chang his family must still be alive. God he hoped they were!

Kim nodded. "What room?"

"615. Tell them Joe needs help."

"You're Joe?"

"Yeah. "

"What if they don't believe me?" Kim thought they might not, after all she was a stranger to them.

Joe hadn't thought of that possibility. Frantically he searched his memory for something only he and his family would know. Suddenly it came to him. "Remind Frank he spilled perfume on me."

A noise from the hall startled them both. "Hurry please."

"I will," Kim promised.

"Wait," Joe called as she started to move away, "the gag."

Kim nodded and quickly replaced the gag. Moving as quietly and quickly as possible she made her way from the room. She thought she heard the hallway door opening as she closed the other door behind her.

Joe warily watched the three spies enter the room. He eyed the paddle Hans carried with trepidation. He hoped the man wasn't planning to beat him with it. He was sure his ribs wouldn't hold up under the strain; he'd definitely heard a couple of them crack during the earlier beatings.

"Did you know there are a great number of nerves and small bones in the human foot?" Dr. Lo asked conversationally as he removed Joe's slippers.

Joe stared at him afraid of where this was leading.

"I ask you again will you answer our questions?" Leta asked.

Joe blinked twice. He jerked as the paddle hit the bottoms of his feet. He would never have guessed something so simple could hurt so badly. After the first few strikes Joe was sure that if he hadn't been gagged his screams would have been heard throughout the ward.

"He is surprisingly stubborn," Lo commented as the boy once more lost consciousness due to the pain.

"Yes," Hans agreed. "We must find a way to make him talk."

"There is a possibility, a new experimental drug. It shows great promise in loosening even the most stubborn tongue." Leta hesitantly offered. She had witnessed some of the experiments, hating every moment. It would be kinder to kill the victims outright. While it was true the drug destroyed the will to resist it did so at the price of the victim's sanity. The heads were quite pleased as it would allow them to not only extract information but to deliver a blow to the enemy's morale as their people were returned to them broken forevermore.

"Why didn't you mention this sooner?" Hans demanded.

"We don't have any here, nor did you show any interest in using drugs. Also it will take time to acquire a dosage," Leta explained.

"How much time?"

"Several hours at least." Leta glanced at her watch, six a.m. she did some quick calculations. "I should be able to have it here by four," she informed them.

Hans frowned. He didn't like waiting so long but nothing else had worked. He only hoped they wouldn't run out of time before the drug arrived. "See to it."

TBC...

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Cityview Hotel Hong Kong: Room 615

The transfer of Chang into the capable hands of the CIA had gone as smoothly as they had hoped. Kline had become nervous for a moment when Chang insisted upon taking the time to offer his sympathies when he learned of their personal tragedy. Fenton had appreciated the gesture but in all honesty he had been eager to complete the mission. Now he only wanted to find his son's body, if that was possible.

"What do we do now?" Frank asked, looking lost and uncertain.

Fenton sighed. "We keep searching for Joe."

"You heard the same thing I did Dad. The tide washes everything out to sea." Frank sat heavily on the end of his bed. "I don't know what to do without Joe," he admitted in a choked voice.

Sitting beside his eldest Fenton wrapped a supportive arm around the younger man's shoulders. "You go on, we both do. We live and laugh and love because that's what Joe would want for us." It was almost exactly the same thing Gert had said to him when Laura died.

"How?" Frank glanced at his father, eyes glistening suspiciously.

Before Fenton could answer a frantic knock was heard. "What in the world?" Pushing to his feet the elder Hardy moved to the door. Motioning for Frank to be ready in case of trouble he carefully opened the door.

Frank wondered who was at the door. Could it be Joe? Almost immediately he quashed the hope that tried to flare. "Dad?"

Fenton opened the door wider. "Can I help you?"

"Are you Frank?" Kim asked.

Frank exchanged a puzzled look with his father. "I'm Frank," he cautiously announced.

Kim smiled, relief clearly seen on her face. Rushing into the room she closed the distance between them. "Thank God I found you. You have to help him," she gasped.

Frank took a step back. "Help who?"

"Joe, he needs you," Kim explained. She couldn't believe she had forgotten to say. This spy business was much more difficult than she would have imagined.

Frank glared at the girl. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing."

"You think I'm lying?"

Fenton moved to stand beside his son. "I think you need to leave now, before we call the police." He couldn't believe somebody could be so cruel.

"But you don't understand!" Kim cried. "He told me to come to you. Please we have to hurry before it's too late," she begged. Rather than moving towards the door the older man headed for the phone. "Oh why won't you believe me? Wait," she cried out, "I can prove I'm telling the truth."

Fenton paused, giving her a skeptical look.

"Joe said Frank spilled perfume on him," she told them. She could have smacked herself for nearly forgetting.

"Dad?" Frank dared to hope.

"Say we believe you, what do you know?" Fenton cautiously asked.

"I work as a nurse's aide at the Kowloon hospital. A young man was brought in, kept in a private room. Most of the regular staff were forbidden from entering the floor. I was curious though and snuck into the ward. I overheard a few things but none of them made sense, then early this morning, shortly before dawn, I returned to the ward. I saw them; they were torturing him, asking him questions about somebody named Chang."

"Chang?" Fenton asked, a thoughtful look on his face. "Frank the pictures Kline gave us."

Frank moved to the nightstand and removed the pictures, handing them to his father.

"Do you recognize any of these people?" Fenton asked the girl.

Kim took one look and gasped. "Yes, these are the people hurting Joe. " She looked up at the men. "Now do you believe me?"

"Is anybody else at the hospital involved, do you know?"

Kim shook her head. "I don't think so. Wait there was one other man, Chinese with a mustache, dressed as an orderly."

"We need to get to the police," Fenton quickly decided.

"Police? I didn't know spies trusted the police," Kim said.

Fenton gave her a small smile but made no reply. Calling down to the front desk he requested a taxi. He followed this up with a call to Alan Kline, asking that he meet them at the local police precinct, in a short time they were gathered at the police station. Even with Kline's connections and Fenton's reputation it took some time and no little explaining to secure the help they needed. Finally at a little after three they were headed to Kowloon hospital. Kim, much to her chagrin, had been left behind.

"Don't worry Fenton, we'll get to Joe in time," Kline assured his old friend. When the boy's rental had been dredged out of the harbor Alan had cursed himself for allowing Fenton to become involved in this case. Given the chance to save the boy after all, he wasn't about to let anything go wrong, if it was in his power to prevent.

"I hope so," Fenton said in a brittle voice. He didn't dare hope, not yet.

They went over the plan one more time before reaching the hospital. The last thing they needed was a hostage situation. Luck was with them. None of the enemy agents were in a position to spot the police entering the building. Locking down each floor behind them as they moved upward they soon reached the correct floor. A contingent of officers was dispatched to secure access to the upper floors. No matter what their quarry wouldn't leave this floor. With precision movements the selected officers moved forward, closing in on the targeted room.

The signal was given and both hall door and the one leading into the connecting room were thrown open, surprising the occupants. The three enemy agents surrounded a bed in which lay the youngest Hardy. That he had been subjected to torture was obvious to see.

Fenton wanted nothing more than to rush to Joe's side, he could see Frank felt the same. Neither man moved, however, well aware that one wrong move could be disastrous, particularly for their youngest.

"Step away from the boy," Kline ordered, his gun aimed at the doctor who stood over Joe, a hypodermic poised, the tip already in the vein.

"You are too late," Lo smiled. The enemy might have won but it would be a hollow victory he thought as his finger pressed against the plunger of the hypodermic.

TBC...

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A shot rang out hitting Lo in the shoulder, spinning him away from the bed. Before anybody else could act Frank rushed forward to pull the needle from his brother's arm. "Oh God," he gasped as he took in Joe's condition, "what did they do to you little brother?"

Fenton quickly moved forward, joining Frank as the others secured the prisoners. "Joe," he whispered, brushing hair from his son's face. "Can you hear me son?" Though he soon had the gag removed Joe said nothing, bringing Fenton's fear to a new level. As he worked to free Joe from the restraints holding him in the bed his youngest only stared at him.

It was clear that Joe had been tortured, though the cursory visual inspection wasn't enough to reveal the extent of the damage. By the time Fenton had completed his task his youngest had slipped into unconsciousness, whether that was from the torture or the drug he didn't know.

Behind the Hardy's a team of medical personnel had entered the room. The lead doctor was currently examining the hypodermic Frank had removed from his brother's arm. "How much was in this? What is this?" he asked a nearby officer.

The officer indicated he didn't know but quickly passed the question to Alan Kline.

"I don't know doctor," Kline admitted. "Just a moment," he said. He didn't notice the doctor trailing after him. Taking the needle he moved over to Abrams and Manheim, Lo was currently being examined by another doctor. "What was in this and how much?" he put the question to their prisoners.

Abrams smirked. He would tell them nothing. It wasn't as if they would gain the information without their cooperation, the Americans after all were weak, not believing in torture.

Leta paled slightly. She could clearly see that some of the drug was missing. This could only mean Lo had managed to inject a measure of the substance into the boy. "May I?" she asked, holding out her hand for the needle. She ignored the glare Hans was giving her. She had never cared for the use of torture, feeling that any information gained in this way could not be trusted. She had only mentioned the drug to her colleagues because she knew her duty.

Kline didn't give her the needle but he did hold it so that she could more clearly see it.

"There is a very small amount of the drug missing," she told him. "Less than **.**1 cc."

"Leta," Hans hissed.

"Do you believe we will be returned home Hans?" Leta asked. "Perhaps if we cooperate our treatment will be somewhat improved," she suggested.

"What is it?" Kline asked again.

"It is an experimental drug." She glanced over to where the medical personnel were working on Joe. "A full dose would destroy the victim's will to resist questioning."

"Is that all?" Alan asked. Knowing the East Germans he suspected there was more to the drug than Manheim was saying.

Leta shook her head. "It leaves the victim bereft of sanity," she admitted in a low voice.

Alan looked towards the Hardys. How was he supposed to tell them that they would lose their youngest even if he physically recovered?

"I don't know the effects of such a small amount."

Alan jerked his attention back to the woman. "What do you know?"

"The effects of the full dose on sanity are permanent. I suspect in such a miniscule amount," she nodded towards the needle, "there is a good chance the effects will subside with time."

"But they may not?"

"They may not," Leta confirmed.

"What exactly are the effects?" Losing your sanity was after all fairly vague.

"The victim becomes lost in a world of hallucinations, unable to differentiate reality from dream. This leads, eventually, to a near constant state of paranoia."

"What does the drug consist of?" the doctor asked. He had been content until now to allow the American agent to ask his questions; they were the ones he himself would have asked after all.

"I don't know Doctor. I only witnessed some of the experiments I wasn't involved in the development," Leta responded.

The doctor turned away moving quickly to inform his colleagues of the information he had gained. Taking the hypodermic from the American he handed it to an intern and ordered it rushed to the lab. If they could isolate the components it might be possible to develop an antidote.

Alan glared hard at the two agents. How could anybody use something so insidious on another human being? Their side wasn't immune to the use of less than honorable methods of interrogation but at least they didn't leave anybody locked in a world of insanity. "Get them out of here," he ordered his men.

"For what it's worth I do hope the boy won't suffer permanently," Leta said as the men moved them towards the door.

With a heavy heart Alan turned towards his old friend.

Fenton and Frank stood against one wall watching as the doctors and nurses treated Joe's injuries. When medical personnel had first approached the bed Fenton had to pull Frank away. He understood perfectly well Frank's desire to remain near his brother, didn't he share it? But he knew they had to step back and let the doctors work if they wanted Joe to recover.

Neither, however, would leave the room no matter how the medical staff insisted. After thinking Joe was lost to them neither man was ready to let him out of their sight. As they watched Fenton kept one arm firmly around his oldest, as much to hold him back as to comfort.

"Fenton?"

Fenton looked up at his old friend. His heart dropped. One look was enough to tell him something was very wrong. "What is it?" he nervously asked.

"Manheim told me something of the drug Lo tried to inject Joe with."

Fenton narrowed his eyes. "And?"

Alan sighed heavily. In a few short sentences he explained the facts as he understood them. As he spoke he had to force himself to ignore the twin looks of horror and fear on the faces of the Hardys in order to finish.

TBC...

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"He's going to recover Frank," Fenton reassured his eldest as the young man hovered over his brother.

"And if he doesn't?" Frank asked.

"He will," Fenton insisted.

"You don't know that Dad. You heard what Mr. Kline said," Frank reminded his father. His blood ran cold at the thought of what the future might hold for his little brother. He never should have been in Hong Kong with them. "He's just a kid," Frank whispered, brushing the hair from his brother's face. He looked so peaceful lying there; you would never guess the torture he had endured.

"Your Aunt Gertrude would say the same about you," Fenton smiled sadly. He wondered, not for the first time, if he had done the right thing in letting the boys follow in his footsteps. Laura would be so disappointed in him.

"I guess," Frank quietly agreed.

Fenton rubbed his eyes, God he was tired. Taking a good look at Frank he could see the younger man was equally exhausted. "Come on I'll buy you a coffee," he offered. He didn't bother to suggest Frank go back to the hotel. Neither of them would willingly leave the hospital right now.

"I don't want to leave Joe alone."

Fenton sighed. "I'll bring you something if you'll sit down and rest a bit while I'm gone."

"Dad..."

"Frank you won't do your brother any good if you collapse," Fenton pointed out before he could voice his protest.

Frank's shoulders slumped. He knew his father was right. "Alright, I'll sit down," he reluctantly agreed.

It wasn't that he didn't trust his son, really it wasn't, but Fenton didn't leave the room until Frank was ensconced in one of the chairs placed in the room. Satisfied that his oldest wouldn't be falling down while he was gone Fenton quietly left the room.

In spite of his efforts to stay awake Frank must have dozed off. He looked at his watch that was odd; his father should have been back by now. He felt a small thrill of fear. He quickly shook it off, the East German agents had been captured and Chang was safe, there was no reason for anybody to be after his father. There were any number of simple reasons for the delay; he would give him a bit longer before he panicked. A small sound drew his attention to the bed, distracting him from thoughts of his father.

Joe woke to see the same ceiling above him. Why was he still here? Had he been dreaming earlier? Hadn't Kim been able to find them? Maybe they were dead? No he wouldn't think that; it was more likely the enemy agents caught her. He never should have sent her for help. What had he been thinking sending an untrained girl? If anything had happened to her he knew he'd never forgive himself.

He wondered what his captors would choose next as they tried to extract information from him. As if the thought of torture had conjured it Joe felt a renewal of the pain he'd lived with since they'd caught him trying to escape. Though he tried to hold it back, a small whimper escaped.

Frank moved to the bedside. He smiled when he saw that his brother's eyes were open. "Joe, you're awake," he cried in relief.

Joe stared at the apparition standing over him. "Ffrank?" he stuttered. Hesitantly he lifted a hand towards his brother, surprised to find he could. Did that mean he wasn't imagining his brother's presence?

Frank grabbed Joe's wrist, giving it a small squeeze to avoid putting pressure on the broken fingers. "Yeah Joe, I'm here," he soothed.

"Not dreaming?"

Frank smiled, "No Joe you're not dreaming. Your friend Kim found us."

"She's okay?" Joe moved his eyes around the room. "You said us, where's Dad? He didn't get hurt did he?" His heart started racing as he considered all the possible things that could have gone wrong.

"Dad's fine Joe, so is Kim," Frank assured his brother. "Dad just went to get some coffee."

"You promise?" Joe knew that Frank might not tell him everything if he thought it would be better that he not know.

"I swear it little brother."

"Good," Joe sighed. Unconsciously he shifted in the bed wringing a pained gasp from his throat.

"Joe? Are you in pain? Should I get the nurse?" Frank anxiously asked.

Joe shook his head barely moving it due to the pain in his neck. He would have liked something for the pain but he didn't know who to trust. What if there were other agents working here? "Maybe water?" he rasped. The more he talked the more his throat hurt. Considering all the screaming he'd done it wasn't really surprising.

"Sure Joe," Frank reached for the water pitcher. He could have kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner. He'd heard the rasp in his brother's voice; it should have occurred to him that Joe's throat was sore. Setting the pitcher down he inserted a straw into the cup and held it for Joe to drink.

"Better?"

Joe gave a tiny nod. "Thanks."

"Sorry I took so long," Fenton was apologizing as he came through the door, two cups of coffee in his hands. He hadn't meant to be gone so long but he had met up with Joe's doctor and they had spent some time discussing Joe's prognosis and possible treatment options. Most of his injuries only needed time to heal; the real issue was the drug Joe had been injected with. Though only a small amount had entered his bloodstream they had no idea how badly it would affect him. The hope was that it would either have no effect at all or that the effect would be short-lived and mild. The doctor had informed him that they had determined, through analysis of the drug, which pain killers they could allow Joe to have. Unfortunately they'd had no luck in developing an antidote for the drug.

"That's okay Dad," Frank assured him. "Look who decided to wake up," he added, moving aside so Fenton could see Joe.

"Joe," Fenton smiled, quickly setting the coffee cups on the bedside table. "I'm so sorry I got you into this mess son."

Joe shot his father a puzzled look. "What are you talking about Dad?"

"I never should have brought you to Hong Kong. If I'd left you and Frank at home you never would have been hurt." Fenton would never forgive himself for the pain his son was suffering.

"It isn't your fault Dad," Joe assured him.

"Yes Joe it is," Fenton refused to be let off the hook.

"No, if you want...to blame somebody, blame...the people that...can't let others live free," Joe gasped.

"Frank get the nurse or better yet the doctor," Fenton ordered.

"I'm okay...just my...ribs," Joe protested.

"You're in pain Joe and there isn't any reason to let it continue," Fenton countered. Seconds later Frank returned, Dr. Lai in tow.

"Hello young man," the elderly doctor greeted his patient for the first time. "I am Dr. Lai, it is good to see you awake."

Joe had to force himself not to recoil from the doctor.

The doctor shared a concerned look with his patient's father. "Your brother tells me you are in pain?"

"Just my ribs," Joe replied.

Dr. Lai frowned. "Nothing else? You are certain?" Aware of the extent of the young man's injuries he knew there should be more pain.

"Maybe my feet and my neck ," Joe admitted after a moment, "and my fingers a little."

"I will order something for your pain," the doctor told him with an encouraging smile. "You must tell us when you are in pain Mr. Hardy. You will not heal as easily if your body is also coping with pain."

"Listen to the doctor Joe," Fenton said. He knew his youngest and while he had been known to milk a minor injury, he would contrarily, when suffering any sort of serious injury, do his best to convince them he was fine.

"I will," Joe promised. Something flew across his field of vision making him jerk back in fear. What the hell was that?

Frank quickly noticed. "Joe, you okay?"

"Just a twinge," he lied. He didn't know what they'd do if he told them he had thought, for just a second, that he'd seen a spider smiling toothily at him as it flew past his face.

TBC...

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	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

There it was again! What was happening to him? Joe closed his eyes, "It's not real, not real," he whispered. Opening his eyes once more he was relieved to see nothing out of place in the hospital room. In the past two days he had seen strange, unexplainable creatures in the room with him. Sometimes he was alone when this happened but it was just as likely to happen when there were others in the room.

He didn't know what was wrong with him and a part of him wanted to tell his father or brother about the visions. Another part, a stronger part of his consciousness recoiled at the idea. If they knew they'd tell the doctor and then what would happen? Would he be locked up somewhere, for his own safety? But what if he was going crazy?

"If you can ask the question then you're not crazy."

Joe slowly turned his head the little he was capable of. "No, you're not real," he whispered. Closing his eyes tightly against the sight of a demented ventriloquist's dummy he prayed it would be gone when he opened them. Cautiously he opened his eyes, a whimper escaping against his will.

"Sorry kid can't get rid of me that easy."

"Not real, not real, not real...ahh!" Joe jerked. Another cry, this of pain as his neck spasmed, sounded in the sterile room.

"Sorry little brother, I didn't mean to scare you," Frank apologized.

Joe panted heavily as he tried to bring his racing heart under control. "It's alright." He forced himself to ignore the dummy in the corner.

"Name's Elmer kid," the dummy laughed. "Yeah I know it's not much but it's better than dummy."

Joe whimpered.

"Joe, are you hurting?"

"Yeah." He was, though that hadn't been the only cause of his whimpering.

"I'll get the nurse."

"Thanks."

Frank frowned; Joe really didn't like to take drugs if he could avoid them. He didn't like the way they made him feel. For him to not argue he must be in pretty extreme pain. "I'll be right back."

"Please leave me alone," Joe pleaded with the vision as soon as the door shut behind his brother.

"No can do kid," Elmer smirked. "You need me."

"No I don't."

"You do."

"Why would I?' Joe couldn't help being curious. "Great I'm having a conversation with my hallucination."

Frank was nearly to the nurse's station when his father's voice stopped him. Turning towards the older man he saw that Dr. Lai was with him. He waited for the two men to join him. "I'm glad you're here doctor."

"Why is that Mr. Hardy?"

"Joe's in a lot of pain. I was just coming to ask the nurse if she could bring him something."

"Hmmm," the doctor glanced down at the chart he carried, a frown on his face. Turning to the nurse on duty he spoke in rapid Mandarin.

"What is it doctor?" Fenton asked.

"Your son is not due for more pain medication for another two hours. While he might be feeling some twinges at this time they should not be severe enough to warrant another dose of medication."

"Could it be because of the drug Lo injected him with?"

"It is possible." The doctor turned a thoughtful gaze towards the younger Hardy's door. "Are you sure it is wise to inform your son of the possible effects of the drug?" He personally thought it was a mistake. If the young man was aware of the possible effects he might well manifest them, the power of suggestion being a very powerful force.

"I don't know about wise doctor but I know my son. Knowing of the drug will not cause him to develop symptoms. More importantly if he doesn't know of the effects and he does experience them he might keep them to himself."

"Very well, as his father it is your decision," Dr. Lai conceded. "Shall we?"

This time Joe wasn't taken by surprise, in spite of Elmer. He groaned when he saw that Frank wasn't alone, nor was the nurse with him. It was going to be a lot harder, he was sure, to hide the hallucination from his father and Dr. Lai.

"Hello Joe," Dr. Lai greeted his patient. "Your brother tells me you're in pain."

"Yes," Joe confirmed the information.

"I am concerned by this. You shouldn't be experiencing enough pain to need medication yet. Could you tell me where the worst pain is and describe it please?"

"It's mostly in my neck, kind of sharp spasms. It wasn't that bad but I kind of jerked. I think that's what set it off."

"Ah, now I understand. Was there a reason you jerked? The muscle spasm you mentioned?"

"No, nothing like that," Joe replied. "I didn't hear Frank come into the room, he startled me. But he didn't mean to, it was an accident," he quickly added. He was suddenly afraid the doctor would bar Frank from the room. He didn't know what sort of policies hospitals in Hong Kong might have.

"If you are willing to try a form of acupuncture I would prefer to attempt to ease your pain in this way rather than with pain killers."

"Acupuncture? Isn't that with needles?" Joe shuddered. He had never been fond of needles.

"Normally yes. This method however involves applying pressure to certain points. Would you allow me to try this?" Dr. Lai did his best to appear non-threatening. He was well aware that following his recent experiences the young man before him was likely not very trusting of doctors, particularly Chinese ones.

"I guess." Joe wasn't sure about this, not really, but it was only pressure right? Besides Frank and his dad were here, they wouldn't let the doctor hurt him if that was his intention. Joe did his best to relax as the doctor began to apply pressure with his thumbs, slowly rubbing against his skin in a circular pattern. He was surprised to find the pain receding rapidly. "That's amazing."

"It is working then?"

"Yeah, my neck feels a lot better. It's still stiff and sore but that sharp pain is almost gone."

"Good." Dr. Lai continued in silence for a few more minutes. "Much better than drugs wouldn't you agree?"

"Much," Joe grinned. For the first time he felt relaxed in the presence of his doctor. "Can you teach me how to do that for myself?"

"I will see to it, and we will be sure your brother and father are taught as well, yes?"

"That's a good idea," Fenton smiled, relieved to see Joe obviously feeling better. He wondered why they hadn't used these pressure points from the beginning. He said as much to the doctor.

"Many westerners are not receptive to such things; I was therefore hesitant to suggest it. This is not to say pain killers are inappropriate, they too have their place and Joe will continue to need them for a while longer. But the acupressure will, as you have seen, be useful for those times when pain is present and it is too early for more medicine. Furthermore the technique will be helpful when the time comes to wean Joe from the medications."

"That makes sense."

"Now Joe I did not just happen to be passing by at this time," Dr. Lai said, turning his attention back to his patient.

"You didn't? Is something wrong? More than we knew?" Joe was starting to feel anxious. The torture had resulted in three cracked ribs, numerous bruises, a neck so stiff he could barely move it, broken fingers, and feet so swollen and sore he couldn't hope to walk on them. What more could there be?

"Calm down son and let the doctor explain," Fenton soothed, laying a strong hand on his son's shoulder.

As carefully as possible Dr. Lai explained about the drug Lo had managed to inject into his system. He told the young blond of the effects that might possibly occur as a result of the small amount that had entered his blood. Afraid the young man might panic he hurried to explain their belief that due to the miniscule amount the effects would be mild and short-lived, if they occurred at all.

"So I'm not crazy?"

Dr. Lai realized instantly what the boy must mean. "You have already had hallucinations?"

"Yeah. At first it was just weird things. A spider with a mouthful of teeth," he shuddered. "Red mice running around the room, flowers sprouting out of Frank's ear. That one was kind of funny," Joe grinned. "But now..." Joe paused, his fingers nervously playing with the edge of his blanket.

"Go ahead and tell them kid."

Joe nodded. "There's a new one, he talks to me."

"Talks to you?" this had the doctor very concerned. "What does he say?"

"He said his name is Elmer and that I need him."

"Elmer?" Frank snorted. "Sorry," he quickly apologized. There was nothing funny about his brother suffering hallucinations it was just the name that had struck him as funny.

Joe grinned though. "Yeah I know but he said it's better than dummy."

"Dummy?" Fenton asked.

"He's a dummy, a ventriloquist's dummy. He looks kind of like a farmer, but with a demented expression, guess Elmer fits."

"I see," Dr. Lai said as he made a note on the chart. "You must tell somebody immediately if Elmer begins to suggest things to you."

Joe gave him a puzzled look. "Things?"

"If he suggest you harm yourself or others."

"Oh hell no!" Elmer yelled.

Joe flinched. "I don't think he liked that."

"Damn right I didn't. I'm here to help you not hurt you."

"He says he's here to help me." That had Joe curious. "How?" he asked the dummy.

"I keep the other imaginary critters away. It's just until the drug wears off," Elmer explained.

Joe relayed this message to the doctor.

"Fascinating," Dr. Lai whispered.

"But it doesn't make any sense," Frank protested. "How could one hallucination stop others?"

"I would have to consult with a colleague but I suspect it is a coping mechanism that your brother's mind has created. It is really quite amazing, I've never heard of such a thing. Still, the mind is quite powerful and there is much we do not know about it."

"So you don't think I should worry?" Joe asked.

"I believe it is possible that Elmer is simply a coping mechanism but as we can't be sure my earlier caution must stand. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I'll tell you if anything like that happens," Joe promised.

"Good and now I believe, if you are up to it, that I should teach you a bit of acupressure. Later I will arrange a time to instruct you more fully. Does that meet with your approval?"

"Yes, thank you doctor," Joe smiled.

TBC...

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	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

A week later Joe was smiling broadly as his father wheeled him from the hospital. The hallucinations, including Elmer had stopped two days earlier. He had only remained in the hospital a little longer to be sure they didn't return.

"No offense Dr. Lai but I hope I never have to see you again," Joe said as they reached the exit doors in the lobby. The wheelchair would be going with him as it would be a while before he was able to walk again.

The doctor chuckled. "I share your wish young man." He handed a folder to Fenton. "This contains all of the information concerning your son's injuries. Please be sure your family doctor sees them when you return home. Joe will need continuing treatment for some time to come."

"I will doctor," Fenton promised. He grasped the other man's hand. "Thank you Dr. Lai."

"You are most welcome Mr. Hardy."

With help from his father and brother Joe was soon relaxing in the back seat of the rental car. "Are we going straight to the airport?"

"We have to go to the hotel to get our bags. The State Department made arrangements for a private flight so you'll be more comfortable. Alan said we could leave today or tomorrow, we just need to let him know if we're staying. I didn't want to check out of the hotel until I knew if you wanted to stay another day or..."

"No, no," Joe quickly refused. "I'm ready to get home." He knew it would be a long time before he wanted to return to Hong Kong, if he ever did.

"I wouldn't think you'd be in such a hurry for Aunt Gertrude's fussing," Frank teased.

"Believe it or not Frank, I can't wait," Joe said his voice thick with emotion.

Frank gave his brother a sad smile, all desire to tease fading away to nothingness. "I'm sorry Joe."

"It's okay Frank, don't beat yourself up."

"Today it is," Fenton readily agreed. Checking out of the hotel didn't take long. He and Frank had packed before they left for the hospital, just in case. Fenton left the boys in the car while he hurried inside to check out. In short order he was returning, a bellboy trailing after him with their bags.

Thanks to Alan and the State Department their way at the airport was smoothed, allowing them to quickly board their private flight with minimal fuss. Once aboard the three Hardy men relaxed into their seats.

"Joe, would you like your seat reclined?" Fenton asked after seeing his youngest squirming for the third time since their flight began.

"Please," Joe replied. He hated having to ask for help with something so simple but there wasn't any choice. He'd be very glad when his fingers healed. It would still be a while until he could walk on his own but at least his fingers healing would give him a little more independence. He heaved a relieved sigh as the pressure on his ribs was eased. Who knew sitting up could be so painful?

"Your ribs?" Fenton asked.

"How'd you know?"

Fenton chuckled. "I've had broken ribs a time or three, cracked hurts almost as badly." Sobering he brushed hair from Joe's forehead. "I only wish you hadn't been hurt by this case son."

"It's not your fault Dad, please stop blaming yourself." Joe really hated seeing his father wracked with guilt like this.

"Joe's right dad," Frank put in. "Nobody could have known this was going to happen."

"I should have known," Fenton insisted. "I've worked in intelligence before, I know the sort of dirty tricks they're capable of." He sighed. "I never should have encouraged you boys."

"Hold it right there," Joe ordered, his tone as stern as any his father had ever used. "You couldn't have discouraged us Dad. In fact if I remember right you did discourage us in the beginning, something about us being too young and investigating being too dangerous. I'm pretty sure I speak for Frank here when I say that we decided to become detectives long before any encouragement from you."

"We did," Frank confirmed.

"And if you had kept discouraging us instead of opting to train us and yes encourage us, we would have kept right on investigating crimes. The difference is we would have been doing it without training and without your knowledge so we probably would have ended up getting badly hurt or worse. You are a good, no a great, father and this is in no way your fault." Joe paused, releasing a wide yawn. "Are you going to stop blaming yourself?" To his satisfaction his father only nodded. "Good." He closed his eyes, "Now I'm tired and gonna sleep." Within minutes he drifted off.

Fenton watched him, a bemused smile on his face. "Guess I've been told."

Frank chuckled. "You going to do what you're told?"

Fenton sighed. "I'll try."

"I think Joe will be satisfied with that." Frank reclined his own seat and closed his eyes. He listened as his father's seat was laid back as well. Soon the cabin was filled with the sounds of even breathing as the three Hardys slept.

Several hours outside of Bayport the three awoke, stomachs rumbling with hunger. A trip to the small galley and Fenton returned with three meals. "I brought soda, but there's tea or coffee if you'd rather have that."

"Soda's fine Dad," both younger men spoke almost as one.

"Is Aunt Gertrude meeting us at the airport?" Frank asked.

"No, I asked her to have Chet pick us up in a van. It'll be easier for Joe to get in and out of."

Joe frowned. He could barely put any weight on his feet and the van would be higher than a car to step into. "Um, Dad," he wasn't sure what to say. His father had already been feeling guilty, he hated to complain and revive that guilt.

"Oh no Joe, not your van, a van," Fenton said, correctly interpreting the problem. "The State Department is providing us with a handicapped van to use until you're back on your feet son."

Joe wasn't sure he liked the idea of a handicapped van. He shook off the discomfort, it was only temporary. There was no reason to be upset about it.

Chet was waiting for them inside the airport. He greeted them with a big smile and to Joe's surprise a gentle hug. "You scared us buddy," Chet quietly said in a voice that was suspiciously thick.

"Sorry about that." Before the trip to Hong Kong Joe would have been uncomfortable with the small display of emotion. That was before he had laid in a hospital room believing he'd lost the two most important people in his life. He understood exactly how Chet felt.

"Just don't do it again," Chet drew back, smiling down at the blond.

Joe chuckled. "I'll do my best Chet. Speaking of scaring...I hear you're our ride home," he said, eyes sparkling with humor.

"Hey I'm a great driver," Chet automatically protested. He frowned when everybody laughed. "Very funny Hardy," he playfully groused. "Seriously though we better get going. Aunt Gertrude is going to get mad if I don't get you guys home soon."

They made their way to the van where Chet quickly explained the controls for the wheelchair lift to Frank and Fenton. Once Joe was in the van they secured his chair, keeping it stationary for the ride home. Thankfully it wasn't a long drive but even so Joe's ribs were hurting once more by the time they arrived home. In short order they were out of the van and while Frank and Chet retrieved the luggage Fenton wheeled Joe inside.

Gertrude had been in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on Joe's favorite cake when she heard the sound of a vehicle in the driveway. Laying aside the icing bag she moved towards the hall. Oh she hoped it was Fenton and the boys. When her brother had called from Hong Kong with the news of Joe's supposed death Gertrude was sure she had aged ten years in that moment. She regained those years the moment she heard the news that Joe was alive after all, only to lose half of them as she listened to Fenton describing his injuries. To put it simply her emotions had taken her on a ride to rival any rollercoaster.

"Oh Joseph," she cried when she caught sight of her youngest nephew being wheeled into the house. Fenton had told her what had been done to Joe, but nothing could have prepared her for the damage done to the boy. Rushing forward she leaned down to hug him, stopping at the last moment. "Is it okay?"

Joe smiled. "Yeah Auntie, just be gentle okay?"

Gertrude hugged him carefully. "I'm so glad you're safe Joey."

Joe blushed; she hadn't called him Joey in years. Not since the day when he had declared that at eight years old he was too old to be called Joey. "Sorry I scared you," he whispered.

"You have nothing to be sorry for young man." Gertrude straightened to her full height. "But if I ever get my hands on those people," there was no doubt who she meant, "they'll be more than sorry." She turned on her heel. "Well come on, dinner's almost ready."

Ignoring the pain in his ribs he let his father push him into the kitchen, more than willing to tolerate the pain if it meant he could enjoy one of his aunt's homemade dinners. As he inhaled the wonderful aroma Joe grinned; it was good to be home.

TBC...

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	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Thank God for sweats Joe thought as he moved his wheelchair into the bathroom. One of the first things his father had done when they reached home was to get Joe an electric wheelchair. Until his fingers healed Joe wouldn't be capable of maneuvering a manual chair.

Using the heels of his hands he pushed himself to his feet. Biting back the whimpers trying to escape he changed seats as quickly as possible. As much as it hurt him to stand on his feet, even for the short time it took to move from chair to toilet or chair to bed, Joe was grateful for the ability. The doctor had told him that while his feet were heavily damaged from the torture they would fully recover, something he was grateful to hear. Dr. Lai had seen the results of such torture before, during wartime, and some were crippled for life as a result he had told them. Joe shuddered at the thought of never walking again or walking only with the help of crutches.

Business taken care of Joe made his way back to the first floor guest room. It had been quickly decided that it made more sense for Joe to stay downstairs than to build a ramp or install a rail lift to the second floor.

"Joe lunch will be ready in about half an hour," Gertrude said from the doorway. "Do you want to eat in here or at the table?" She knew her nephew couldn't always tolerate sitting up, thanks to his ribs. Oh if she ever got her hands on those awful people, she silently fumed.

Joe considered the question carefully. "I think if I lay down now I can handle sitting at the table Aunt Gertrude."

Gertrude nodded. "I'll send Frank in when lunch is ready."

With a sigh of relief Joe stretched out on the bed. It wasn't as comfortable as his own bed but it was a one hundred percent improvement over the wheelchair. Joe would be so glad when he was finally out of the contraption. Idly he wondered how people dealt with stuff like this before the invention of the wheelchair.

At least his neck wasn't hurting as badly as before, only a little soreness lingered. He still had plenty of healing to do but every little improvement was something to be grateful for. When the pain had first occurred Joe had been terrified that a serious injury had happened. The fact that he hadn't been able to move for a couple of minutes following the injury hadn't helped with that fear. It was now nearly two weeks since he had caught onto the lies of the East German spies and with each day his neck healed a little more.

If only the rest of him would do the same. Joe gave himself a mental shake. He knew the other injuries were healing too but being more severe they were going to take longer, both to heal and for him to feel any real difference.

"Joe lunch is ready," Frank peeked his head around the door a little while later. "Do you need some help?" His first instinct was to rush to assist his brother but Joe had very quickly made it clear that he didn't want to be babied. His words, not Frank's.

"I got it," Joe replied. Rolling to his side he struggled through the pain to push himself to a seated position. Panting heavily he took a moment, pulling up the strength to move to the chair.

"Joe," Frank sighed.

Joe looked up, "Maybe a little help," he reluctantly admitted.

Frank stepped fully into the room and moving carefully soon had Joe in his wheelchair. "You okay?"

"I'm fine Frank," Joe huffed. "Well no worse than I was yesterday anyway," he added with a small smile that looked more like a grimace.

Frank ruffled Joe's hair, ignoring the annoyed look from the younger man. Pulling the door open for his brother he stepped aside, giving Joe room. "We could push back the physical therapy," Frank offered.

"No, I'll be ready to go after lunch." Because it would be at least a couple of months before he could walk more than a few steps Dr. Lai had taught Frank and Fenton some exercises to help Joe. He insisted that these exercises be performed daily to prevent Joe's leg muscles from atrophying. Though they weren't comfortable, thanks to the cracked ribs and numerous bruises, Joe endured them. When his feet finally healed he wanted to be able to walk. At least the exercises were simple enough that they didn't need a professional therapist, though his father had arranged for a weekly visit just to keep a check on things.

Joe wheeled himself to the table and waited for Frank to help him with the specialty utensils. Though it was a small thing he was exceedingly grateful for the existence of such things. He really didn't like the idea of having to be fed like a baby. The only thing worse would be to be cleaned like a baby; the bidet/sitz bath had taken care of that problem thankfully.

"Smells great Gert," Fenton said as he entered the kitchen.

"Fenton I didn't know you'd be home." Gertrude pushed her chair back.

"Stay where you are Gert, I've got it." Fenton had soon served himself a helping of his sister's delicious chicken soup. Dipping his spoon into the bowl he took a bite, "Wonderful as always," he smiled.

As they enjoyed their lunch the table was filled with the sort of ordinary talk that was often heard during their meals. It was several minutes before Frank noticed Fenton wasn't joining in.

"Something wrong Dad?"

"Hmmm," Fenton looked up.

"You haven't said much, is there a case giving you trouble?" Frank asked.

Fenton sighed. He had been debating how to break the news to them, particularly Joe.

"Dad?" Joe exchanged a worried look with his brother.

"I heard from Alan Kline earlier. He told me the State Department has opened negotiations to return Lo, Abrams and Manheim to their countries."

"What?" Frank cried, outraged. "How could they do that?"

"They can use them as leverage to get some of our own people home," Fenton explained.

"So they get away with what they did to Joe? Do we get any say in this?"

"No son we don't." Fenton watched Joe with concern. "Joe?"

"What do you want me to say Dad?" Joe sighed. "I know it's important to free our own operatives but I want justice too."

"Justice or revenge?"

"Are you going to lecture me now? Tell me it isn't right to want revenge?" Joe fired the questions in rapid succession. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint you but I can't be as noble as you Dad," he continued, not giving his father time to respond. "They made me think you and Frank were dead! I laid in that hospital, surrounded by strangers and thinking you were both lost to me forever. And when I realized it was a trick they tortured me for the information their scam was meant to get. You damned right I want revenge. I want them to pay for the hell they put me through, the hell I'm still going through. If that offends your sense of fair play well Dad that's just too damned bad." Not waiting for Frank to help him Joe moved his chair from the table and left the room as quickly as he could.

Fenton sat still, mouth hanging open in shock.

"How could you ask him that Fenton?" Gertrude chided.

"Joe's right, they should pay for what they did." Frank stood, following his brother from the room.

"Damn," Fenton cursed, tossing his napkin onto the table.

TBC...

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	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Frank had intended to give Joe some time to cool down but the sound of breaking glass had him running down the hall only moments later. Throwing open the door he just barely managed to duck as an unknown object came towards his head. "Whoa little brother I'm not the enemy," Frank said holding his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

"Sorry," Joe mumbled. "Ow, shouldn't have done that," he groaned as his body protested the vigorous movements of a second earlier. He hadn't planned to throw anything but then he'd knocked his water glass from the table, clipping the corner, the glass breaking. The sound of it had ignited his anger and suddenly he was throwing anything he could manage to grab. It wasn't much, considering his hands, but there were a few small items that lent themselves to his purpose if he used both hands.

Ignoring the items littering the floor Frank stepped into the room. "What is it?" he asked as he stepped around the broken glass to kneel in front of Joe's chair.

"I don't think my body liked that," Joe ruefully admitted.

"How bad?"

Joe shot his brother a sheepish look. "Not bad and it's my own fault. I can't believe I threw a tantrum like that."

"I'd say you had good reason to be mad," Frank easily absolved his brother. Glancing at the broken glass on the floor he smirked playfully, "But you get to explain to Aunt Gertrude why you're breaking glasses."

Joe chuckled. "Thanks Frank. Actually that was an accident but it kind of started everything else."

"Oh?"

"It, I don't know, the sound ignited my anger or something and next thing I know I'm throwing stuff." He glanced from the door to his brother, "You know I wasn't actually aiming at you?"

"I know Joe," Frank assured his brother. "It was just bad timing." Silently he began to clean up the mess Joe had made, starting with the broken glass. "Probably need to vacuum in here, make sure I got all the glass. At least the glass broke in big pieces so there shouldn't be much in the carpet, if there's any at all." Tossing the glass into the waste basket he matter-of-factly set about putting the room to rights.

"Sorry to make you clean up my mess," Joe apologized.

"That's what big brothers are for," Frank grinned.

"I don't know why I got so mad. It's not Dad's fault that the State Department is willing to let them go."

"No," Frank agreed. "But I don't blame you for wanting to see them pay for what they did to you. Dad shouldn't have asked what he did." Finished with the room he sat on the bed. "You want to talk about it?"

"I don't think so," Joe quickly rejected the offer.

"You sure?" Frank didn't particularly want to hear the gruesome details but if Joe needed to talk, he'd listen. That was something big brothers were good for too.

"Thanks but I don't see how giving you nightmares is going to help." Damn, he probably shouldn't have said that.

Frank snapped to attention, fixing his brother with a penetrating stare. "Why didn't you tell anybody?"

"I don't know." Joe looked away only to gasp his brother's name as in the next instant his vision greyed. In only a split second his sight grew black until only a pinpoint of light showed directly in front of him. He felt as if he were swaying and though it only lasted a few seconds Joe was sure he would have ended up on the floor if he'd been standing. Instinctively he reached for his brother, the slight movement serving to increase the disconcerting effect on his balance.

Frank moved closer just as Joe reached out, his brother's hand falling on his shoulder. "Joe, what is it?" There was a look of fear on Joe's face, worrying Frank more than the gasping of his name had done.

As quickly as it had come the event passed bringing a sigh of relief from the younger Hardy. "That was...strange, scary."

"What was? What happened?" Frank anxiously asked.

"I couldn't see, well mostly."

"Couldn't see? Joe that's serious." A sudden thought occurred to the older boy, it'd be just like his brother. "Has this happened before?"

"No," Joe saw the doubt on his brother's face, "no Frank. I swear this is the first time it's happened."

"So your sight just went away?" He really didn't like the sound of this.

"Kind of. It started at the edges..."

"What started?"

"Blackness ; it grew fast until all I could see was a pinpoint of light. It messed with my balance too. I felt like I was swaying."

"That's why you reached for me?"

"I guess. That was just instinct really," Joe admitted. "I'm just glad I was sitting down, probably would have fallen if I'd been standing."

"Was there any pain?"

"No, just my vision going wonky along with my balance. But I think the balance was because of the vision problem."

"We need to tell Dad." Frank could see by the look on Joe's face that he was about to protest. "We don't know what caused it Joe, it might be something serious. Do you really want to wait and risk waiting too long?"

Joe sagged, or would have if his ribs would allow it, he knew when he was beat. "Alright but I'm not going to the emergency room. Dr. Bates' office should be fine."

Frank decided not to argue. He'd let his father and the doctor handle that. "Be right back."

"What's wrong?" Fenton asked the moment he saw Frank's face.

"Did Joe hurt himself?" Gertrude asked

"Why would you ask that?"

Gertrude smiled. "I realize your father and I are old in your eyes but there isn't anything wrong with our hearing. We heard a few things hitting walls."

"Oh, no that isn't why I came in here. I think his ribs and neck might have protested the movement but he said the pain from it wasn't very bad."

"Then what's wrong?" Fenton asked again. He frowned thoughtfully as his eldest relayed the event with Joe's vision. "You're right Frank we shouldn't ignore that. I'll call Dr. Bates and see what he thinks we should do. You let Joe know," he instructed as he headed for the phone. "Oh and Frank, tell your brother that if the doctor says emergency room then that's where we'll be heading."

"I'll let him know."

A short time later the family, Gertrude refused to be left behind, were on their way to the doctor's office. Dr. Bates was well acquainted with Joe and knew how much he disliked hospitals. His most recent experience certainly wouldn't have helped in that department. As the doctor had an x-ray machine in the office he had told them the initial examination could easily be done in the office. If all went well there would be no need for a hospital visit.

Joe chewed his bottom lip as he looked out the window. He had acted as if it wasn't any big deal but the truth was he was scared. He didn't know what could cause his vision to black out like it had and the few things he could think of were very bad. His brother's hand on his arm brought him out of his thoughts.

"It'll be okay Joe," Frank spoke softly, reassuringly.

"Of course it will," Joe easily agreed.

"You don't have to pretend Joe; I can see you're worried. Anybody would be."

"I guess." Turning back to the window Joe resumed watching the scenery flash by as his mind worried over the possibilities.

Dr. Bates was a very old-fashioned doctor. He'd even been known to make house calls when needed, something you didn't find anymore. His office was located in the front part of an old two story house; the doctor's living quarters taking up the back half and second floor. He was waiting for them when the door opened, Fenton holding it open for the rest of the family as they made their way inside.

"Hello Joe, your father tells me you're having some trouble," the elderly doctor greeted his patient.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Joe asked.

"He did, but I'd like to hear it from you. Why don't we go on back to the exam room," he suggested. Leading the way he pushed the door open for the youngest Hardy, leaving the rest of the family to wait in the outer room. "Now Joe, could you tell me exactly what happened?" He listened carefully, occasionally jotting a note as the younger man described what had happened. "Was there any pain, any at all?"

Joe gave the question some thought. He'd told Frank no but he had only been thinking of obvious pain. "No, I don't remember any, not even a twinge," he answered after a moment.

"And what did you do right before the blackout?"

"Nothing, I just turned my head, that's all." Joe bit his lip, he wasn't sure he wanted to ask the next bit. "Dr. Bates do you think it's something serious?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here Joe. It's just as likely to be something minor as a serious problem. You might only have turned your head a little too quickly," the doctor responded, hoping to soothe his patient's fear. "I'd like to take some x-rays of your neck to begin with. That's the most likely trouble spot, given your recent injuries. Once I can look at those I'll have a better idea of how to proceed. Sound good to you?"

Joe smiled. "Yeah." He followed the doctor down the hall to the x-ray area.

"I'll be right back," Dr. Bates said as he looked at the exam table. "I think we're going to need a little help." Saying nothing more he left the room, returning a couple of minutes later with Frank. Working together the three men, mostly Frank and the doctor, moved Joe from the chair to the exam table. "If you'll wait in the hall Frank I'll get the x-rays taken care of."

Laying a lead apron over his patient the doctor got to work. After taking several x-rays from various angles he called Frank back into the room and they got Joe back into his chair. "Could you take your brother back to the exam room while I develop the x-rays?"

"Of course Doctor," Frank readily agreed. Nothing was said as they moved down the hall to the exam room. "You want me to stay?" Frank asked as Joe wheeled past him into the room.

"You don't have to."

"But you'd rather not be alone," it wasn't a question. Following his brother into the room Frank shut the door behind him. Neither brother wanted to give much thought to their reason for being here, opting rather for small talk as they waited. When the door opened a short while later both young men were relieved to see that while the doctor wasn't smiling he didn't seem terribly worried.

Dr. Bates attached the x-rays to the light board and turned it on. "I've found the problem Joe and while it does need to be addressed it isn't as serious as it could be."

"So I'm not going to go blind?" Joe asked, finally voicing one of his biggest fears, the other being a tumor that would eventually kill him.

"No Joe," Dr. Bates assured the young man. Picking up a small pointer he indicated the area on the x-rays that needed explaining. "The problem is right here. These two vertebrae, C2 and C5 specifically are displaced. It likely occurred during the electroshock you were subjected to."

"Are you saying my neck is broken?" Joe asked in a small voice, his eyes never leaving the x-rays.

"Technically it could be stated as such but it would be more accurate to think of it as a dislocation."

"Okay, that sounds a little better I guess."

"This is what's happened, C2 and C5 have become dislocated and when you turned your head a nerve was pinched, causing the vision problems. You may also experience headaches or neuralgia as a result of the injury."

"Why wouldn't the doctors in Hong Kong have caught that?" Joe asked.

"I can't answer that Joe but x-rays are misread more often than you might think. It's also possible that the soft tissue damage from the electroshock induced seizures could have hidden the injury. Now that damage has made good progress on healing it has allowed other problems to become apparent," Dr. Bates patiently explained.

"So it wasn't necessarily incompetence?"

"No Joe. I won't rule that out but there are so many variables that could have caused the doctors to miss the damage that I'm not comfortable casting blame."

Joe nodded thoughtfully, "Fair enough."

"Can it be fixed Doctor?" Frank asked.

"Yes, there are a couple of options."

"Maybe Dad should be in here for this," Frank suggested before Dr. Bates could go any further.

Joe agreed. "Might as well bring Aunt Gertrude too."

Frank left, retuning a moment later with the remainder of the family. With Joe's permission the doctor quickly brought them up to speed.

"As I was about to tell Joe there are a couple of options. One would be surgery and while that would certainly fix the problem anytime you operate so near the spinal cord you are running a risk of some pretty severe complications."

"Well I didn't think there'd be a pill that would fix it," Joe joked. He knew it couldn't be that simple.

Dr. Bates chuckled. "No Joe, but there is an alternative, one that is less invasive. How familiar are you with chiropractic?"

Joe looked at his brother wondering if he had ever heard of it.

"Isn't that where a trained professional uses their hands to force the bones of the spine into their proper position?" Frank asked. He remembered reading something about it, though he couldn't have said where.

"Yes, that's it exactly," Dr. Bates confirmed. "Many doctors frown upon it, seeing it as little more than quackery and I'll admit some who practice it are untrained, dangerous charlatans. There are some, however, who have gone to school for many years learning how to use chiropractic manipulations safely and effectively. If you opt for that route I can recommend a Chiropractor who is well trained and trustworthy."

"Do I have to decide today?" Joe asked.

"No, not at all. While the problem needs to be addressed, the sooner the better, you have time to examine all your options. I'll give you some brochures and you can talk it over with your family, decide what you want to do."

"What would you do Dr. Bates?" Fenton asked.

It was a fair question. "If Joe were my son I'd recommend chiropractic over surgery. While problems could occur with chiropractic it isn't invasive and the doctor I have in mind is exceedingly cautious, particularly when manipulating the vertebrae of the neck."

"I guess we'll talk it over and let you know in a few days," Joe said.

"Good enough Joe. Let me just get those brochures and you can be on your way."

TBC...

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	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Well I think Joe should have surgery," Gertrude said. The family had gathered in the living room to look over the information Dr. Bates had provided.

"I don't really like the idea of somebody cutting that close to my spine," Joe countered. After looking everything over he was leaning towards the Chiropractor.

Gertrude tsked, "It wouldn't be somebody Joseph it would be an experienced surgeon. This chiropractic nonsense sounds like just that to me."

"Now Gert you don't think Dr. Bates would recommend something that was nonsense do you?" Fenton asked with a wink towards his sons. He was well aware of his sister's respect for professionals such as doctors. It was why she hadn't questioned the advice at the doctor's office.

"Even a doctor can be fooled," was Gertrude's opinion.

"What do you think Frank?" As much as Joe respected his father and aunt it was Frank's opinion he was in the habit of seeking.

Frank considered the question carefully. He knew Joe would be likely to follow his advice. It was a heavy responsibility and he was very much afraid of getting it wrong. "I think," he finally responded, "that you should give chiropractic a try. Like Dr. Bates said it's not invasive and the guy he plans to send you to is careful and trustworthy. If it doesn't work you could probably have surgery later."

Joe nodded. Frank made sense and he had to admit he preferred the idea of a non-invasive treatment. "I think that's what I'll do." Glancing at his aunt he could see she was ready to launch into a lecture in an attempt to change his mind. "I probably should do some more extensive research first. You'll help with it won't you Frank?"

"That's the first sensible thing that's been said today," Gertrude harrumphed. "I suppose," she glanced at the clock, "I'd better begin preparing dinner."

"Will the insurance cover chiropractic?" Joe asked after his aunt left. It had only just occurred to him that they might not and he didn't know how much the treatments would cost.

Fenton smiled. Joe wasn't always practical but neither was he unaware of the need for practicality. "You let me worry about that son."

"But what if..."

"Joe, first I can afford the treatments if the insurance won't, and second you're forgetting that the State Department is footing the bill. Insurance won't even come into it unless the government refuses to pay for the treatment which I really doubt they'll do. They're very grateful for our help in Chang's defection."

Joe nodded, accepting the reminder. Looking down again at the brochures the doctor had given them he once more began to read through them. It was an important decision, the most important of his life to date, and he didn't want to make a mistake.

Joe's ribs twinged, reminding him that he had been up too long. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Joe, you okay?" Frank asked. Neither the shifting or small grimaces had escaped his notice.

Joe sighed. "I think I need to lie down for a bit. My ribs are hurting a little," he admitted. He suddenly noticed they were the only ones in the room. "Where'd Dad go?"

Frank chuckled. "He went to his office detective."

Joe blushed. "Guess I was kind of absorbed in reading."

"You must have been," Frank agreed. Reaching over he took the brochures from Joe's lap and laid them on the coffee table. "You need some help?"

Joe opened his mouth, the automatic refusal on the tip of his tongue before he thought better of it. He was hurting and if his vision decided to black out again he might fall. He was pretty sure his ribs could do without that. "Might be a good idea."

Frank fixed his brother with a concerned gaze. It wasn't like Joe to admit to needing help. "Do you need a painkiller?"

"I don't think it's that bad yet," Joe shook his head. "I'll let you know if I change my mind."

"You better," Frank sternly warned. "You won't do yourself any favors trying to ride it out."

"Yes Mom." Hitting the controls on his chair he moved towards the guest room.

Frank sent a mock glare his brother's way. "You should know I'm making a list of all the payback I'll owe you when you're better."

"I'm shaking in my boots," Joe retorted. Looking down at his sneaker clad feet he smirked. "Well I would be if I were wearing boots."

"Think you're funny don't you?" Frank opened the door for Joe and stood aside.

"You forgot cute Frank."

Frank smiled. It was good to see Joe joking around. Entering the room behind his brother he set about helping the younger man into bed. "Better?" He asked as he took a seat in the only chair in the room.

"Much," Joe sighed. "I never did tell Dad I'm sorry did I?" he asked after a minute.

"No, but you were a bit distracted."

"That's not really a very good excuse. He didn't deserve my anger. It was a fair question and it isn't like he wants them to go free."

"True. Actually I'm not sure they'll go free anyway."

Joe raised an eyebrow in question. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it Joe. They failed their mission and got caught. That's going to embarrass their bosses and from what I've read they're not very forgiving of agents who embarrass them."

"So you think their own governments will punish them, even if it isn't for what they did to me?"

"Exactly. I wouldn't be surprised if they were sent to one of those gulags or whatever the Chinese and East Germans call them."

Joe thought that over. He probably should feel bad for them. He'd read about the prison camps where spies and political prisoners were sent, they sounded like a nightmare. "Am I a terrible person for not feeling any sympathy for them?"

"No way!" Frank protested automatically. He didn't need to think about it. "And if you are then so am I. After what they put you through, after watching Dad age years right in front of me when we thought you were ddead...I'm not exactly feeling charitable either. They deserve any punishment they receive," Frank declared decisively.

"Pretty awful?" Joe hadn't really thought about what his family had gone through while he was missing.

"Not as bad as it was for you. We at least had each other to lean on, you were alone and grieving." Frank quickly dismissed the pain he and his father had dealt with. Compared to what Joe had been put through it really was nothing.

"But I did figure out the truth while you and Dad still thought I was gone," Joe pointed out.

"And then you had the fun of being tortured." Frank chuckled. "Listen to us arguing over who had it worse."

Joe grinned, "Guess it is pretty silly."

"Just a little."

"You think I should talk to Dad now?" Joe asked bringing the conversation back to the original topic.

"I think it's your decision. I can go get him if you want," Frank offered.

Joe nodded. "Yeah I don't want him to think I'm still mad."

"Be right back." Frank stood up, at the door he paused. "Probably should just send Dad in by himself." It had just occurred to him that Joe didn't need his help to apologize to their father and would likely prefer privacy.

Joe nodded. He lay still, waiting for his father to arrive. He didn't have to wait long, within two minutes of Frank leaving the room the door opened again, admitting his father.

"Frank said you wanted to talk to me," Fenton said as he took a seat.

"Yeah, did he tell you why?" Joe stalled.

"No, but from his tone it sounded important."

"It is," Joe confirmed. "I wanted...Dad I want to apologize for earlier. I had no right to get mad at you."

Fenton smiled fondly. "You had every right to be angry son. I shouldn't have asked the question."

"No, it was a fair question. I know you just didn't want me to fall into the trap of seeking revenge. We've all seen what that kind of mind set can lead to."

"True, but it was too soon to ask. Especially since you'd just found out the plans the State Department have." Joe might be willing to forgive him but he was far from ready to forgive himself. After everything that his son had been through to add to his trials was unconscionable.

"I'm really not sure why I got so mad. I know it isn't your fault and you'd rather see them in prison too."

"I would and they may end up in prison anyway."

"Yeah Frank already pointed that out," Joe said before his father could say more. "I guess it's a kind of justice even if the reason for them being sent to prison won't be the right one." He studied his father's face. He could see the guilt still lingering in the older man's eyes. He didn't like it. "Please stop feeling guilty Dad. The question was fair. The only thing you're guilty of is bad timing and that isn't worth beating yourself up. But maybe that isn't the only thing you're feeling guilty about?"

Fenton shook his head a small smile on his lips. "You always were quick to pick up on moods. I'm working on it son but it'll take time to stop feeling guilty over Hong Kong."

"Fair enough," Joe conceded. He knew if their positions were reversed he would feel just as guilty, maybe even more so. "But as far as that earlier conversation goes we're good, okay?"

"Okay," Fenton agreed. Joe was right; there were bigger things for him to feel guilt over.

Joe tried and failed to hold back a yawn. It'd been a long, tiring day and it wasn't over yet.

"I'll wake you in time for dinner." Fenton moved next to the bed, looking down at his youngest questioningly.

"Sounds good," Joe yawned again. Once begun he didn't seem to be able to stop.

Bending down Fenton brushed a soft kiss into Joe's hair. "Sleep well son."

Joe mumbled sleepily his eyes already sliding shut as he drifted to sleep.

TBC...

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	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Joe jerked awake, eyes wide, his breath coming in rapid gasps. It took a moment for his mind to catch up to his body. It was disconcerting to wake from a nightmare while still trapped within the dream world. It always took him a minute or more to realize he was home and safe. The strangest thing was the more he healed physically the worse and more frequent the nightmares became.

It had been three weeks since he had found out about his neck. In that time his fingers had finally been untaped, though he still had to be careful using them. Dr. Bates had made sure he understood that though the bones had healed they would continue to be sore and weak for a while yet. He needed to gradually increase usage to rebuild the strength in them.

His ribs too were nearly healed, another week and they would be as healed as possible. Joe could hardly wait. Not only would he be able to move more easily, though he had to admit the pain was mostly gone now, but treatment on his neck could be started after he was given the all clear on his ribs. The Chiropractor had examined him once, looking over the x-rays Dr. Bates had taken and taking some of his own. Dr. Riley, the Chiropractor, wanted to wait until his ribs were fully healed so he didn't put any extra stress on them, prolonging the healing process. He had explained that when he manipulated the vertebrae of Joe's neck it would affect the rest of his spine as well and while it wasn't likely to add stress to his healing ribs he preferred to err on the side of caution.

Even with all of the progress he'd made, Joe was still stuck in the wheelchair for a while as his feet still had a great deal of healing to do. Dr. Lai had warned him, and Dr. Bates had confirmed, that it could take months for his feet to heal enough to allow him to walk. Though not permanently crippled by the torture it had caused a good deal of nerve damage in his feet and that would take a while to heal.

These were the thoughts running through Joe's mind as he waited for either his father or brother to appear. He never heard it himself but the last few nights he had cried out as he woke from the nightmares. Expecting his father or Frank he was taken by surprise when the door opened to admit his aunt instead.

"Are you alright Joe?" Gertrude quietly asked.

Joe nodded, "Sorry I woke you up." She must have noticed him trying to see past her.

"I told your father to go back to bed." She had of course heard her nephew screaming the last few nights, followed soon after by her brother or Frank moving down the stairs. Tonight she had gone to bed in her robe, slippers next to the bed, allowing her to meet Fenton in the hall. The man needed his sleep; besides what did men know of dealing with nightmares? Moving into the room she sat down on the edge of Joe's bed, brushing the hair from his eyes with one hand. "You need a haircut."

"I like it the way it is."

Gertrude fixed him with a penetrating look. "Don't you mean the girls like it the way it is?" She nearly laughed at her nephew's reaction.

Joe blushed. "I, uh, maybe?"

She did laugh then. "I'm not as old as you and your brother think I am Joseph Hardy." Softening her gaze she smoothed his hair back again. "How bad was the nightmare?" she quietly asked.

Joe shrugged. "Bad enough I guess."

"Must have been pretty bad to have you screaming."

"I guess." He looked down, his fingers playing with the edges of the blanket.

"You've been doing that a lot lately." Gertrude laid her hand on top of Joe's, stopping his nervous movements. "Maybe you need to talk about it," she suggested.

"What good would that do?"

"It might help you to deal with what happened."

"By giving Dad or Frank, or you nightmares?" Joe scoffed.

Gertrude sighed. "I'll be back in a few minutes." She stood up and walked to the door. "You want marshmallows?"

"Huh?"

"In your cocoa."

"Oh, yeah that'd be nice," Joe smiled. He hadn't thought of it before but suddenly a cup of cocoa sounded really good. He was reminded of his childhood, waking from one of his frequent nightmares to the sight of his aunt. She would hold out a hand and lead him down the stairs where she would fix them each a cup of hot cocoa. Sitting at the table, sipping the hot, sweet drink they would talk out the nightmare.

"Here you are, one cup of hot cocoa with marshmallows, just the way you like it," Gertrude announced as she bustled into the room. "Do you need help?"

"I got it." Moving carefully Joe pushed himself up until he was sitting. "Thanks," he smiled as his aunt moved the pillows to stand behind him, giving his back support. He sipped the hot drink, letting it soothe nerves still jangled from the nightmare.

"Now about these nightmares..."

"I really don't want to talk about them Auntie," Joe quickly interrupted. He knew his aunt meant well but he really didn't want to burden his family with the reality reflected in his nightmares.

"Don't interrupt Joseph, it's rude," Gertrude admonished.

"Yes ma'am." Joe smiled into his cup as he took another sip.

"I would listen if you wanted to talk, as would your father or brother but in all honesty I'd rather not hear the details. I'm sure my imagination is more than capable of creating pictures of what those horrible people put you through." She knew this next sentence would surprise her nephew, it had surprised her when she'd first considered it. "I was actually suggesting you talk to somebody outside the family, a professional."

Joe stared, completely dumbfounded by his aunt's words. "Are you alright Aunt Gertrude?"

"I know I've always scoffed at psychiatry, stuff and nonsense I called it and most of the time it is. I have realized, recently, that perhaps there are times it can be helpful."

"And you think now is one of those times?"

"I do," Gertrude confirmed. "You can't continue like this Joe, waking up screaming every night, spending the rest of the night awake."

"How did you know?" Joe blurted before he had time to realize the admission he was making.

Gertrude chuckled. "I raised you didn't I? And the dark circles under your eyes are a pretty good clue, especially when combined with the redness."

"It'll probably pass," Joe protested. "It's only been a few nights," he lied.

"That you've woke up screaming yes but how many nights have you had nightmares before that?" Not for nothing had she raised her brother's children. Familiarity with the boy before her easily allowed her to see through the lie.

Joe looked away. "Do you really think it would help?" If his aunt, who had never cared for psychiatry thought it would help he thought he should probably consider it.

"Yes dear I think it could help. Keeping it to yourself certainly isn't doing you any good and I know you well enough to know you'll not talk to your father or brother about it."

Joe mechanically took several sips of his cocoa as he mulled over his aunt's suggestion. He set the cup aside and turned to his aunt. "I'll ask Dr. Bates if he knows somebody. Thanks Aunt Gertrude," the grateful smile he shot her way was soon split by a large yawn. "Think the cocoa did the trick," he grinned sleepily.

"It always does," Gertrude smiled as she helped him rearrange his pillows so he could once more lie flat upon the bed. "Think you can sleep now?"

Joe nodded, letting his eyes slip shut.

Gertrude gathered up the cups, at the door she paused looking back at her nephew. Yes the cocoa always helped, the small amount of valerian root tincture didn't hurt either she smiled. Leaving her nephew to his sleep she quietly left the room.

TBC...

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	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"I understand you were recently tortured?" Dr. Lawrence said by way of opening the conversation. Dr. Eliot Lawrence, a well-respected psychiatrist specializing in helping former POWs was employed by the State Department. When Joe had mentioned the idea of a shrink to his father the elder Hardy had offered to contact the State Department knowing they would have people on staff or retainer who were experienced with situations like Joe's.

"Yeah," Joe quietly confirmed. Now that he was here he wasn't sure this was a good idea. The thought of opening up to a complete stranger was daunting and he didn't know if he could do it.

"I imagine you've been having nightmares?"

"I'm sure my father told you I am." If this guy was going to treat him like he didn't have a brain Joe was less convinced than ever of the use of therapy.

"Actually he didn't," Eliot calmly replied. "The moment I was told you had been held prisoner and tortured I knew nightmares were likely to occur. When recovering from a traumatic event the mind will do all it can to process and come to terms with whatever trauma was suffered, nightmares are usually a part of it."

"Oh, sorry," Joe mumbled.

Eliot smiled, "It's okay Joe, your's was a natural assumption."

"So how does this work? Do I lay down on the couch or what?" Joe indicated the couch sitting along one wall.

"Would you feel more comfortable lying down?"

Joe snorted. "Honestly I'd feel pretty stupid and, well I'd feel stupid."

"What else were you going to say Joe?"

Joe shrugged.

Eliot made a note; he had some idea of what feelings lying down in the presence of a stranger, a doctor, might bring up. "This works by talking, that's all really. Nothing fancy, no tests and unless necessary no medications, just the two of us talking."

"How does that help?"

"Hopefully it will help you in coming to terms with what happened to you."

"I could just talk to a friend or somebody in my family."

"If that were true I don't think you'd be here, would you?"

Joe looked away, "No, I guess not," he admitted.

"So tell me about your nightmares," Eliot leaned back in his seat, his pose open and inviting.

"What do you want to know?" Joe stalled.

"Whatever you want to tell me."

Joe inhaled deeply. He honestly didn't know where to start. "They're nightmares. Well memories I guess is more accurate."

"So your dreams are only replaying what happened in reality?"

"More or less," Joe shrugged.

"Tell me some of the differences."

Joe closed his eyes, "Sometimes my father and brother don't get there in time and Dr. Lai injects the full dose of that drug. I go crazy and my dad is forced to have me locked up for my own protection."

"This is the experimental drug?"

"Yeah, but they did get there in time and only a little bit was given to me. Did they tell you what it did to me?" Joe wasn't sure he should mention the hallucinations, particularly Elmer, if the doctor didn't already know.

"It's in the file I was given. I found Elmer to be a very interesting defense mechanism."

"I guess, it did help," Joe admitted. "After Elmer showed up I didn't see anything else."

"That must have been a surreal experience."

Joe nodded, "You could say that."

"Has Elmer made any further appearances?"

"No," Joe gave the doctor a sharp look, "you don't think he will do you?" Elmer hadn't been bad, a lot better than grinning spiders, but that didn't mean he wanted to see him again.

"I doubt it but anything is possible." Eliot noted Joe's nervousness, completely understandable given the topic. "What other nightmares have you experienced?"

"I didn't find the perfume and their scheme works. The East German and Chinese are waiting when Chang arrives, they grab him and kkkill everybody else." Joe blinked rapidly; he refused to cry over a stupid dream.

"Your father and brother?"

Joe nodded.

"How does that make you feel?"

Joe stared, dumbfounded by the question. "How do you think it makes me feel? Guilty, ashamed...lost."

"Lost?"

"They're my only family, aside from my aunt. I didn't know what to do with them gone."

"We're not talking about your dream any longer are we?"

"At the hospital in Hong Kong before I knew it was a trick the spies made me think they were dead. Even after I realized they'd lied about the coma I didn't know for certain that my family was alive. It hurt, like a piece of myself was missing."

"Yet on some level you must have known they were alive," Eliot pointed out. "You did send the young Chinese girl to find them."

"I didn't know if they'd be there, if they were alive, but it was the only hope I had. I didn't know if the police would listen to Kim if she went to them on her own. It wasn't until I saw my father standing over me that I knew without a doubt they were alive."

"You must have been quite relieved."

"I was and every time I have that nightmare it's like I'm alone again. Even after I wake up it takes a minute to realize it was just a dream. But for that minute I'm lost and alone, again." Joe swallowed hard and looked away. Just talking about it was enough to reawaken the horrible feeling of lying in a strange hospital and trying to face the prospect of years without his family. He wasn't aware of tears falling until the doctor handed him a tissue. Embarrassed at his display he wiped his eyes, mumbling an apology.

"There's nothing to be sorry for Joe," Eliot assured him.

Joe snorted, "I'm a guy..."

"And that means?"

"I'm not supposed to cry like some girl."

"So you're telling me that guys aren't supposed to feel the same emotions as girls?"

"No, but, well guys don't cry. Come on doc, you're a guy you know what I mean."

"I do, I just don't buy it."

"Yeah, well you're a shrink guess it's okay for you," Joe retorted.

"I understand your mother passed when you were young?"

"Um, yeah?" Joe wasn't sure what the doctor was getting at.

"Did your father cry?" Eliot quietly asked.

"He tried not to let us see, but yeah. We, my brother and I, would hear him sometimes late at night when he thought we were asleep."

"Do you think your father was being too much like a girl?" Eliot hoped that with his questions he could help his patient see that it was okay to express your emotions, even if you are a guy.

"Of course not, but that was different," Joe protested.

"How?"

"Um, my mother had died," Joe replied, his tone clearly showing what he thought of the doctor's intelligence.

"And you thought your father and brother were dead," Eliot pointed out.

"Then but not now. It's stupid to sit here crying over a memory that isn't even real," Joe blushed.

"The event might not have happened but your memories of that period are as real as if it did. Frankly Joe I'd be worried if you didn't become a bit emotional when talking about that time or nightmares about it."

Joe looked up, surprise etched on his face. "You would?"

"I would," Eliot confirmed. "Real or not you thought you had lost most of your family and that event is still relatively fresh. I don't see how anybody with feeling could talk about something like that without becoming emotional."

"I guess," Joe mumbled. No matter what the doctor said he still felt embarrassed by his reaction. "Are we about done?" he glanced at the clock.

"We have a little longer but I think that's probably enough for today." Eliot stood up and moved to the door. "I would like you to make an appointment for next week on your way out. You have somebody waiting for you?"

"Yeah, my brother brought me today," Joe confirmed.

"Good," Eliot said, opening the door he stepped aside to let Joe past. "Don't forget to make that appointment."

"I will doc," Joe promised. He hadn't been certain about talking to a shrink but he had to admit he did feel a little better now that he'd told somebody about his nightmares. Maybe that old saying about a burden shared is a burden halved had it right. Joe would definitely be making that appointment.

TBC...

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	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Joe sat on his bed contemplating the book sitting on the dresser. Glancing between dresser and chair he considered his options. He should probably use the chair, he knew it, but he was so tired of being stuck in the contraption. It had been two months since his rescue. In that time his physical injuries had healed, all but two.

The vertebrae in his neck were being treated by a chiropractor, Dr. Riley was sure a few treatments spread out over about a six month period would be enough to keep the vertebrae in place more or less permanently. Riley did warn him that he might need to see him occasionally for treatment throughout the rest of his life but after the first six month it should be a rare occurrence.

It was his feet that were the real problem. Now that the nerves were further along in the healing process it had been decided that it was time for more intensive therapy. He was currently having physical therapy three days a week away from home. It would still be months, maybe as much as a year before he would be fully recovered. Patience had never been one of Joe's virtues and that lack wasn't helping now.

His physical therapist had said he could start walking more soon, soon being a relative term, with the use of crutches. Not the regular kind that went under his arms though, but the kind he'd seen people with permanent disabilities use. The upper portion wrapped around his forearms while a protruding grip was at just the right height for his hands. The therapist assured him he wouldn't have to use them forever and it was better than the wheelchair he had to admit, at least he'd be upright. But he didn't have the crutches yet and he didn't want to use the chair.

It was only a few steps, okay a dozen, there and another dozen back. "Enough of this," he growled under his breath. He might not be ready to walk any distance without the promised crutches but he had healed a lot...some; he could handle the short trek to the dresser and back. Decision made Joe carefully stood, it was a little uncomfortable but not too bad. "I can do this."

With a deep breath he took a step forward, and another, by a little past the halfway point Joe knew he'd made a mistake. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to move forward, practically falling against the dresser upon reaching it. He stood against the piece of furniture, letting it support him while his feet burned in agony. Glancing over his shoulder he considered the return distance, knowing he'd never make it. Oh the agony of defeat, Joe giggled at the unintended pun. "You're losing it Hardy."

"Stubborn fool."

Joe jerked, nearly falling. Turning his head to the side he screwed his eyes shut at the sight that greeted him. He opened them again, praying the hallucination would be gone. No such luck.

"Miss me kid?" Elmer grinned, it didn't improve his features.

Joe felt like crying. Elmer was supposed to be gone, why was he back now? Had the drug caused more damage than they'd thought? Would his nightmare come true after all? No! He wasn't going crazy! His father wasn't going to be forced to lock him away.

"Don't you think you should call for help? Or do you want to kiss the floor?" Elmer cackled.

Hallucination or not it was probably right. "Frank!" He waited as long as he could but he heard nothing. Taking a deep breath he tried again. This time he was rewarded by the sound of footsteps thundering down the stairs. He just hoped he could keep himself upright until help arrived, already his shirt and hair were soaked with sweat and his arms were beginning to shake with the effort of holding him up. He would have hoisted himself onto the dresser but that would have required putting more pressure on his feet, Joe didn't think that was a good idea.

Frank nearly collided with his father at the bottom of the stairs. "Sorry," he called without slowing down.

Waving off the apology Fenton quickly followed after his oldest.

Frank threw open the guest room door. "Joe, what..."

"Help?" Joe gave his brother a sheepish grin.

Shoving his questions aside for now Frank rushed forward, grabbing Joe around the waist while flinging his brother's arm over his own shoulder. His father, only a step behind him, soon took up the same position on Joe's other side. Silently the two men helped the youngest back to the bed.

"What the hell were you trying to do Joe?" Frank nearly yelled.

"Um, get a book," Joe responded in a small voice. He couldn't blame Frank for being angry. It had been a stupid thing to do. Yes he could put some weight on his feet, with the support of the parallel bars at the therapist's office. He was even able to put his full weight on his feet for a few steps.

"A book? You risked crippling yourself for a book?" Frank shook his head, unbelievable.

"I'm not going to be crippled by a few steps," Joe shouted.

"Alright that's enough," Fenton didn't raise his voice often but when he did his boys tended to listen. "Frank go get your brother a glass of water, I'm sure he could use a painkiller."

Frank stood motionless, staring at his brother as disbelief and anger warred for dominance on his face.

"Frank," Fenton snapped.

He bit back the angry retort he wanted to fling at his father. Turning on his heel he left the room, choosing the kitchen over the bathroom for the requested water. Hopefully the extra distance would give him a chance to cool down.

With a heavy sigh Fenton reached for the bottle of pills on the bedside table. Popping the cap he shook one of the pills into his hand. Slowly replacing the cap he set the bottle back on the table before sitting on the edge of the bed. "What were you thinking son?"

Joe shrugged.

"Joseph?"

"I wasn't okay? Is that what you want to hear?" He was tired, hurting and with the return of Elmer he could add scared to the mix. He really didn't have the energy to deal with his family's anger too, no matter how much he deserved it.

Fenton sighed. He didn't know why he was surprised; patience wasn't something his youngest could ever be accused of. He was actually amazed the boy had lasted this long before pushing himself too far. "No Joe that isn't what I want to hear. I know this must be frustrating for you but you won't do yourself any good by pushing beyond what your body can endure."

Joe nodded; he knew his father was right. "Frank's wrong isn't he? I couldn't be crippled forever could I?" Try as he might he couldn't quite keep the fear from his voice.

"Not if you do what your therapist tells you."

Joe blushed. "I wasn't trying to hurt myself. I just get tired of being in that," he pointed at the wheelchair.

Fenton brushed Joe's hair from his face, "I'm sure you do Joe but it won't be forever."

"As long as I do what I'm told." The door opened before anything else could be said. Frank handed him the glass of water without a word and turned to leave. "Frank wait, please."

Frank stopped with his hand on the doorknob, shoulders tense with anger.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Joe glanced at his dad, "either of you," he added.

Frank turned around fixing his brother with a hard glare. "I thought, when I heard you screaming for help...I thought something really bad had happened. And then I opened the door and find out it was just my little brother being an idiot, don't know why I'm surprised."

"Frank..."

"No Dad," Joe interrupted. "Frank's right, I was being an idiot. I can't change that Frank, all I can do is say I'm sorry and promise to do better." Joe turned the full force of his expressive eyes on his brother, silently pleading with him to accept the apology.

Frank sighed. "Next time I might just let you fall on your face."

"There won't be a next time," Joe promised. He wasn't worried by the threat, even if there was a next time his big brother would never let him fall.

TBC...

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	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

"Why do you think Elmer reappeared?" Dr. Lawrence asked.

"I don't know." Joe had debated long and hard with himself over informing the doctor about Elmer. He was terrified that he was losing his mind. He had been equally scared at the thought of telling the doctor. What if the man insisted he be locked up before he really lost it and hurt himself or somebody else? That had been the deciding factor. As much as he feared losing his sanity and being locked away in an institution he feared hurting somebody more.

"Have you talked to your regular doctor about it?"

"Why would I?"

"Depending on the components of the experimental drug it is possible that this was nothing more than a flashback."

Joe thought that over. "You mean like people who took PCP?"

"Yes," Dr. Lawrence confirmed.

"I've read that some of those people have flashbacks even ten or more years after taking the drug. Is that what I can expect?"

"It's possible. I would need to see what was in the drug before I could give you a more definitive answer. Did you tell your family about Elmer?"

"No way," Joe shook his head.

"Why not?"

Joe dropped his gaze to the carpeted floor and shrugged.

"What are you afraid of?"

"I don't want to be locked up," Joe admitted in a voice so soft the doctor had to strain to hear it.

"Why do you think you'll be locked up?"

Joe did look up then, his expression clearly showing what he thought of the doctor's question. "Isn't that what they do to people who see things that aren't there?"

"In some cases," Eliot admitted. "But Joe the days of simply locking people away and forgetting about them are long gone. To begin with we know the hallucination was, at least originally, the result of an experimental drug. This means that while recurrences may happen they aren't likely to be any worse than the original hallucination. Elmer never told you to hurt yourself or others did he?"

"No," Joe admitted. "He just talked; he helped me, kept other hallucinations away. It doesn't make any sense that he's back, I haven't had any other hallucinations."

"What exactly did he say when you saw him the other day?"

Joe sheepishly repeated Elmer's words. He was somewhat embarrassed to admit even his hallucination was smarter than him.

Eliot smiled reassuringly, quickly re-evaluating his initial assessment. "I don't think you have anything to worry about Joe."

"You don't?"

"No I don't. I think your initial fear was unnecessary."

Joe narrowed his eyes, puzzled by the doctor's statement. "What do you mean?"

"I don't think you're having flashbacks at all." Eliot held up one hand, stopping the younger man's protest before he could voice it. "I think your mind has simply, having found a good coping mechanism in Elmer, is continuing to use him when appropriate."

"So Elmer will be around forever?" Joe felt like crying. How was he supposed to work with his brother if he was hearing and seeing a hallucination? How could Frank trust him to watch his back? How could he trust himself?

"Perhaps but it won't really be any different than what anybody else experiences when engaging in an inner dialogue. The only difference will be that your inner voice will have a distinctive personality and look."

"But what if he appears when I'm in the middle of a case?"

"What if you heard your brother's voice warning you of a possible mistake while you were on a case? Would that keep you from functioning?"

"Well no," Joe admitted, "but that's different."

"Because your brother is real?" Eliot guessed.

"Well yeah."

"As an inner voice he's no more real than Elmer, it is simply how your mind chooses to project that inner voice or conscience. And now your mind has decided that Elmer gets the job done best."

"So you really think there isn't anything to worry about?" Joe felt hopeful for the first time since Elmer's reappearance.

"I really don't," Eliot confirmed. "That being said I would still advise checking with your regular doctor to be certain nothing in that drug could cause flashbacks," he advised. "On another topic, how are your nightmares doing? Has the frequency changed?"

Joe shook his head. "It helps to talk about them with you, they're not as upsetting I guess, but they haven't gone away."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know. Why are you always asking me what I think? I thought you're supposed to have the answers." Joe could feel himself becoming exasperated again. Sure the doctor had come up with a good theory about Elmer, easing his mind a great deal but now he was back to expecting the patient to provide the answer.

"Do I look like Mr. Spock?" Eliot retorted with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

Joe looked him over carefully as if trying to spot a resemblance, "Well if we added pointy ears and your hair was darker..."

"Ha, ha, very funny," Eliot grinned. "Seriously Joe, I'm not here to provide answers so much as help you to find the answers for yourself."

"But Elmer..."

"Was a special circumstance. You weren't likely to find the answer to explain his presence on your own. Aside from which the possible answer simply occurred to me and I saw no reason not to share it with you."

"So you don't know of any reason why I might be having nightmares so often now? Why didn't I get them right after my rescue or right after I came home?" Joe was trying to make sense of it all but this wasn't something he'd ever dealt with before. He was used to hard facts, evidence that he could hold in his hand and look at, paper trails, fingerprints, that kind of thing. This looking into his own mind to find some abstract explanation was more than he could handle.

"You had no nightmares immediately after your imprisonment?"

"A few, but nothing like what I'm having lately."

"So what has changed?"

What had changed? He was home but if that had been it then he would have started having more nightmares as soon as he got home and he hadn't. It had really only been in the last few weeks that the nightmares had become more frequent and then more intense. So what had happened a few weeks ago that could have triggered the nightmares? He put the question to the doctor.

"That is a good question Joe, but remember it doesn't have to be an obvious trigger. Any change at all might be responsible, even one that doesn't seem to be connected in anyway to the torture your endured."

Joe nodded. That might make it more difficult. After coming home the few nightmares he'd been having became nearly non-existent. They had started again a couple of days after he began serious physical therapy for his feet. With each session he moved that much closer to leaving his wheelchair behind, replacing it with crutches and eventually he wouldn't even need the crutches. "I started real physical therapy."

"Real?"

"Before it was mostly at home, just Frank or my dad helping me to exercise my legs so the muscles wouldn't atrophy. "

"And now?"

"Now I'm going to a physical therapist three times a week, learning to walk again. My feet aren't completely healed but they've improved a lot and the doctor thought it was time I started to work on regaining strength and stamina."

"How's that going?"

"Good," Joe smiled. "I should be able to start using crutches soon and eventually I won't even need those."

"So you're becoming more independent?"

"Yeah," Joe gave him a sharp look, "is that a problem?"

"If you become more independent you won't be confined to home any longer will you?"

"No," Joe slowly answered.

"You'd be able to leave the house whenever you wanted, alone or with others."

"Yeah."

"How do you feel about that?"

"What kind of question is that? It's what I want. You think I like being stuck at home all the time or only able to go somewhere if somebody goes with me?"

"I don't know, do you? The world can be a scary place after all."

Joe was about to tell the doctor exactly what he thought of him when the words registered. He sat back in his seat, stunned into silence. Is this what they called an epiphany? "The nightmares are because I'm scared of getting better? No, that's not right. I'm safe at home and getting better means going out in the world more where it isn't as safe. That's why I the nightmares are happening more and are worse than before. I'm right aren't I?"

Eliot silently observed his young patient. "Do you feel like that's the right answer?" he finally asked. He knew he could simply give Joe an answer, a reason for the nightmares but that didn't mean he would be right. He honestly thought of himself as a guide, his job was to help his patients find their own answers for only they could know if the answer fit with what they were feeling and experiencing.

Joe didn't even have to think, he was sure he was right. "I think it is. Before I could ignore the fear I felt when they were torturing me and the fear that something like it might happen again. But the closer I get to full recovery the harder it is to ignore those fears so I end up having nightmares; a lot of nightmares." He looked at the doctor, feeling lighter somehow now that he had found a reason for the nightmares. "Does this mean I won't have any more nightmares?"

"Probably not," Eliot reluctantly replied, hating the effect his words had on the young man before him. He could almost see the hope fading from his eyes, the shoulders slumping under the heavy weight of his problems once more. "But now that you have an idea as to why they're occurring they should gradually decrease and in the meantime they will likely become easier to deal with. Identifying the cause of the problem is half the battle in fixing it."

"I guess I can live with that."

TBC...

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	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: I apologize for the mix-up, there was a problem with the chapter when I posted it the first time. Unfortunately I had trouble simply replacing the content so I had to delete the chapter and repost. Those who have the story on alerts will have received two emails probably, that is the reason.**

Chapter 16

Frank watched his younger brother walk confidently from the doctor's office. It had been difficult watching Joe struggle through the recovery process. There had been many times during the past year when he had fantasized about hiring an assassin to travel to East Germany. Each nightmare his brother suffered through had him wanting to track down the enemy agents who had caused them. It hurt to hear his brother screaming in pain and terror as he relived the real life nightmare within his dreams.

Almost as bad had been watching him struggle through physical therapy, the pain of therapy was probably as bad as the original torture, if Joe's tears were anything to go by. Joe insisted the pain was worth it and Frank couldn't really argue. Had he been in his brother's place, and there wasn't a day he didn't wish for that very thing, he would have endured any amount of pain to avoid life in a wheelchair.

"So what did the doctor say?" Frank asked as Joe opened the van's door and climbed inside.

Joe turned to his brother, a wide grin gracing his face. "Clean bill of health."

Frank returned the smile. It was good to see Joe smiling again, still he couldn't help worrying. He was the older brother; it was part of the job. "You sure you're ready for this?" When his father had suggested the idea Frank had been uncertain. It would be the first time they'd left Bayport since the ill-fated trip to Hong Kong. If anything went wrong he wasn't sure what effect it might have on Joe. He had come so far both physically and mentally, Frank didn't want to see him going back to screaming nightmares and visits with a therapist.

A year ago Joe would have answered without thought. He wasn't the same person now, the months of therapy had taught him to be honest with himself. "It's a little scary but I can't spend the rest of my life in Bayport, I'd be bored to tears." Both laughed at that statement, considering some of the cases they'd solved Bayport could hardly be called boring. "Seriously Frank, I think I need to get away if only to prove to myself that I can handle being away from at least part of my family without falling apart."

Frank shuddered as a memory slammed against him with the force of a battering ram.

_Frank and Fenton had been busy that day and so Aunt Gertrude had driven Joe to his appointment with Dr. Lawrence. While the two had been gone a house three doors down had caught fire. The elderly man who owned the place was in the early stages of dementia. His son had moved in with him a few months previously rather than condemn the old man to a nursing home. The day of the fire Mr. Williams had, unknown to his son, decided to cook lunch for the two of them. The investigation that followed determined the older man had likely walked away from the kitchen, forgetting about the food and it had been that which started the fire. _

_The neighbour immediately next to the Williams house, Mrs. Richmond, said that Richard Williams had broken away from his son right after the two exited the house. Screaming his late wife's name he ran back into the burning structure, his son following after him. The thick black smoke filling the home made it impossible to see clearly and the two were overcome by smoke before they could leave the building again. Though the fire department responded quickly they were too late to save the house or its occupants._

_Nearby houses had been evacuated, including the Hardy home, as a precaution while the fire fighters worked to get the fire under control. Neighbors gathered to watch the structure burning, bathed in the light from the fire and emergency vehicles with smoke billowing into the air, it was an eerie scene. It was to this scene Aunt Gertrude and Joe returned following his appointment. Already emotionally drained from therapy the sight had sent his brother into a tailspin. _

_Gertrude told them later that Joe had screamed their names and tried to get out of the van without the aid of his wheelchair. It had taken two strong men from the crowd to keep him from hurting himself. About this time somebody passing by the van mentioned seeing two bodies carried from the burning house. Joe had stared at Gertrude, eyes wide in shock, whispered two words, "Please no," and passed out. _

_It had been among the worst minutes of Gertrude's life, or so she told them later. She hadn't been sure if waking Joe was a good idea, considering his earlier reaction, but Gertrude Hardy had never ran from reality nor allowed any of her family to do so. Fortunately before she could bring Joe to consciousness Fenton and Frank had made it to the van. Seeing them alive had almost knocked Joe out again but he had rallied, hugging them both tightly; nothing was said of the tears streaking his cheeks._

_After that Joe had regressed. Terrified of losing his family he had barely let them out of his sight long enough for bathroom breaks. Fenton had been forced to put business on hold while they helped Joe through his fear. Frank had taken to sharing the guest room with his brother; it helped the youngest Hardy sleep better knowing he wasn't alone. They had all been surprised when the clinging behavior and fear hadn't dissipated after a few days. The family managed, somehow, to work around Joe's fears over the two weeks until the next appointment with Dr. Lawrence. _

_Eliot looked up in surprise when his door opened to admit not only his patient but the entire family. "Mr. Hardy, Miss Hardy..."_

"_Why don't you call us all by our first names, it'll be easier," Fenton suggested. Introductions were quickly made and everybody found a seat._

"_I take it something has happened?" Eliot directed the question to Joe._

_Joe nodded._

"_Do you want me to guess?"_

"_There was a fire," Joe shuddered. Even though he knew now that it hadn't been his family who died the thought alone was more than he wanted to face._

"_I think I remember reading about that," Eliot remembered thinking the address had sounded familiar. "Did you know the two men who died?"_

"_Not really. I'd mowed Mr. Williams' yard when I was younger and he'd always wave to us whenever we went past but I wouldn't say we really knew him."_

"_But yet the death of him and his son have obviously affected you."_

"_I thought..." Joe trailed off, leaving it to his aunt to fill in the blanks._

"_He thought it was our house burning," Gertrude explained. "The street was blocked off and we weren't close enough to see which house was on fire. " With the brusqueness she was known for Gertrude filled Dr. Lawrence in on the events of that day._

"_Joe hasn't been able to tolerate having us out of his sight since then," Fenton put in._

"_I've been sharing the guest room with him," Frank explained._

"_I see," Eliot said. "You're afraid of losing your family again?" he quietly asked Joe._

_Joe nodded._

"_We've discussed this before Joe; I don't think you can put it off any longer."_

"_I don't want to upset them," Joe mumbled, eyes downcast._

_Eliot scoffed. "You don't think seeing you like this is upsetting them?" _

_The others shared a glance, each afraid to hear what it was that Joe hadn't told them._

"_Joe? What is it you need to tell us?" Fenton gently asked. _

_Joe didn't respond, he didn't know how to start. Frank and his father, especially his father, already felt so much guilt over Hong Kong. He didn't want to add to it._

"_Dr. Lawrence you obviously know what this is about," Fenton turned to the psychiatrist for answers._

"_I do but I can't be the one to tell you," came the regretful reply. Eliot honestly regretted it but the rules of doctor/patient confidentiality forbid any other response._

"_Joe please, whatever it is we can deal with it as a family but not knowing and imagining the possibilities is worse than anything you could tell us," Frank pleaded with his brother for an answer._

_Joe's head snapped up at that. "I'm sorry Frank, I didn't think about that." He took a deep breath. "Part of my therapy has been working through the pain of losing you and dad. I know you're not dead but for a little while I thought you were. Dr. Lawrence has been trying to convince me to talk to you both about it but I didn't want to make you feel worse about everything that happened."_

"_You felt like a part of yourself was missing," Frank spoke softly, his words seeming loud in the quiet room._

"_It was like your soul had been ripped in half and nothing could ever put it together again," Fenton choked past the lump in his throat._

_Joe stared at them. "How did you know?" _

_Fenton moved to kneel next to Joe's wheelchair, his hand brushing over the boy's hair. "Oh Joe, don't you know what you mean to your brother and I? You're the heart of this family son and when we thought you were gone, lost to us forever..." Fenton unable to go on bowed his head to lean against Joe's shoulder._

"_Dad's right Joe," Frank said from his other side. "We were lost without you; it was as if the sun had been blotted out of existence. I can only imagine how much worse it must have been for you little brother; we at least had each other to lean on."_

"_I didn't want to go on," Joe admitted. "Even after I knew they were lying to me I didn't know for sure if you were both alive. It was the most terrifying feeling in the world." He glanced at his aunt. "I love you Aunt Gertrude but the thought of spending the rest of my life without Frank and Dad...if it had been true I don't think I would have been able to keep living."_

_That admission had terrified them all, it was Gertrude who, ever practical, put it in the proper perspective. Standing up she had moved to kneel in front of Joe. "You wouldn't have done away with yourself Joseph Hardy, nor would you if the worst were to happen in the future."_

"_How can you be so sure?" Joe asked in wonder._

_Gertrude harrumphed, "I'm sure because you would never in your life do anything to disappoint your father or your brother and nothing would disappoint them more than knowing you had given up because of them. You would go on because you know, in your heart of hearts that is what your family would want for you. Living, being the man we all know you are and will be would serve as the best way you have of making your father and brother proud."_

"Stop it."

Joe's voice snapping at him brought Frank back to the present. "Stop what?"

"You're thinking too loud again," Joe grinned.

"I was thinking about the fire and what happened later."

Joe sobered, "I suspected that. But I'm better now Frank, I promise."

"Really?"

"Really," Joe confirmed. "Yes sometimes I still feel nervous when you and/or Dad are out of my sight but it's only a twinge of nerves not a full blown panic attack. You going to tell me you don't ever feel the same way about me?"

Frank shook his head. "I could but we both know I'd be lying."

"That feeling will probably never go away completely Frank, none of us are ever going to stop worrying about each other. We worried before Hong Kong, that experience just intensified it. As long as we don't let the worry control us we'll manage just fine."

Frank smiled and nodded. He was proud of the man his little brother was becoming. "So, Mardi Gras?"

Joe grinned. "I still can't believe Dad is giving us a trip like this to celebrate my recovery, but I am so ready for it."

"Yeah it should be pretty interesting, there're a few museums I'd like to check out."

"Museums?" Joe stared at his brother in disbelief. "Frank it's New Orleans, Mardi Gras, the ultimate party. We are so not spending it walking around dusty museums," he stated with finality.

Frank laughed heartily, "We'll see little brother, we'll see." Turning the key he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for home.

The End.

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